Bad Company
by LorettyLauren93
Summary: Abigail Colt, descendant of Samuel Colt, is proven as an asset to the hunting world. At the age of 14, she lost her family to a demon, shortly being taken in by John Winchester as a final wish by her father. Deep within her, Abigail is haunted by her past leaving her a damaged soul. Throughout the years, Abigail has lived, loved, & hunted alongside his sons, Sam and Dean. Rated M.
1. Author's Note

Hello everyone! Welcome to my fan-fiction, _Bad Company._ I have recently gotten into the Supernatural series, starting back since last year, and I can definitely tell you that I am Team Dean. I am a little bit hesitant about going through with writing this fan-fiction due to my mishaps of using an OC that ends up being too much of a Mary Sue, in turn, causes me to lose interest because of mistakes and running out of ideas, as well as unable to keep the characters in line when I try to add in a few chapters of my own...As of right now, I am really into writing this fan-fiction with high hopes that I can go through with this, though I am having a bit of a rough patch due to the fact that I desperately need the help of an outside source to run over my chapters (I have like, four chapters written) and they need proofread before I begin to consider posting them.

I really would like for this to end up turning into something great. As a writer, I try so hard to meet the needs of what I want in a fan-fiction as well as the needs of the readers, so I am open to ideas and tips. Watching Supernatural, (being Team Dean and such) has inspired me to do a little twist to the series. Throughout it, I can't help but watch Dean go through life, having things that is so near and dear to him be ripped away. And I'm also a sucker for some romance, so I thought, w_hy not make a series where he can have someone who could be the comfort and push he needs to get through those times?_

This someone is an OC by the name of Abigail Colt. She comes from a long line of hunters, also being a descendant of Samuel Colt. Abigail was born with supernatural perception along with the ability to sense them proving her parents an important asset to their hunts. At the age of fourteen, her family was brutally murdered after a demon couldn't possess her, leaving her father mortally wounded in which, he tells her to call their closest friend; John Winchester. As Abigail's father's last wish, John takes her in.

This also means, Dean and her wind up developing feelings towards each other. Dean himself is a damaged person, but after the first two years of Abigail living with them, he realizes he isn't the only one who is damaged. Abigail herself is suffering from the reminiscence of her family's demise believing that it was her fault to which, she suffers from severe night terrors and often insomnia.

Though they are a level-headed team, John winds up missing causing them to turn to another means of support-their youngest 'brother', Sam; who had left the family business for college. As a couple, Dean and Abigail are each other's rock; the very means of keeping a level head during a hard point in their lives. Dean is ever loyal and faithful to Abigail, knowing that she knows exactly how he feels.

As the story line progresses, there will be changes towards the Canon...meaning that Lisa will probably not have any major significance as well as Anna...simply 'cause I didn't care for her. Trust me though, Dean will still be Dean. That's what made me love him in the first place! So, no worries!

_**Note:**_If anyone is interested, before I start this series, I am desperately looking for a Beta Reader to ensure that I won't have any problems! Also, this story _will_ _be rated M_ for language and smut, as well as _some-_ and I am stressing _some-_ situations that will involve attempted suicide and drug use. So, _please_, as an attempt at forewarning, don't read it if you aren't into it. Thanks! (:


	2. New Beginnings

**Hello everyone! Welcome to my Supernatural Fan-fiction, ****_Bad Company. _****If you were wondering why that is so familiar, it is a song done by the band, Bad Company, as well as a song done by them. (Though, I think Five Finger Death Punch did a great rendition of it.)**

**This is just an opening chapter or prologue that kinda gives you an insight of what exactly happened to Abigail's family and how John took her in. I'm sure that there will be mistakes within the chapter, so if ya'll could be so kind as to letting me know, I'll address them as quickly as possible.**

**Also, I'm ****_still_**** looking for an editor/beta reader to help me along with this story so that I can keep all of the characters within their characteristics and not OOC, as well as preventing Abigail from turning into a Mary-Sue. Help would be appreciated!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Supernatural franchise, Canon, or characters; just Abigail and her family, as well as the little side stories that I have planned out.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

I can remember it…It seems like it happened yesterday. My parents...my sisters and brother…gone before I could do anything, I was only fourteen at the time. Still a kid to those who didn't know my family. I come from a long line of hunters, people who hunt down supernatural beings in order to protect others from an untimely, yet at times gruesome, demise. My mother and father were some of the best hunters around, specializing in demon hunting particularly. Every hunter knew their names, knew of them, or had the opportunity to work alongside them. Sometimes I went with them; sometimes I didn't and sat watching my younger siblings. _The perks of being the oldest of four._

My parents had very few friends, colleagues, whomever you wanted to call them. A few to name that were actually very close to them was Bobby Singer, Rufus Turner, and the Winchesters. My family owned a good sum of land in West Virginia so whenever either of them needed a place to crash or hide from the authorities; ours was the first place to go to no matter how far they were from us.

Being a hunter came with dire responsibilities. Watching out for my two sisters and brother was number one. Watching out for myself came last compared to anything else whenever it came to the well-being of them. I found out at a young age that I had these…powers. I had the ability to see _all_ of the supernatural beings that we hunted for what they were, despite of their humanoid disguises. I was an essential part of my parent's hunts, unless it was deemed too risky…of course, the _one time_ my parents leave me to watch my siblings…I end up losing them all.

_12 years ago…_

_July 16__th__, 1993_

_Bruceton Mills, West Virginia-Putnam County_

The day was so beautiful. Not a cloud hung in the sky, the sun shone brightly as it caressed the world in a blanket of warmth. A soft, cool breeze drifted by as it playfully tugged at my hair. I could see the twins, Michael and Shelby, and my youngest sister, Alyssa running ahead of me. Laughing, giggling, and squealing in their childish bliss. Our home was very large, my parents owning almost ninety acres of land with a large cabin accompanied by a large stable, garage, shed, workshop, and guest house all within walking distance made it a great place to play for two ten year olds and a six year old. With ninety acres of land at the four of us' disposal, they had begged me to go to the stable to ride their horses.

It had been a few days since I had even seen my horse, a beautiful sorrel Quarter horse by the name of Dunn Got It Made or as I called him, Dunn. That familiar velvety soft, pink nose poked out of his stall as I walked up to him with a soft smile, "Hey buddy, it's been a while hasn't it?"

Dunn's big brown eyes stared back at me, pawing at the stall door. I couldn't help but laugh, "Hold on big guy, I gotta get the kid's out." I dug into my jean short's pocket and pulled out a half eaten Snickers bar, putting my hand through the bars of the stall. Dunn moved over to where my hand was at, picking up the candy bar and chewed. I patted his muzzle before meeting Michael at his horse's stall.

"You wanna get him out, Mikey?" I asked, looking down at my shaggy headed little brother. Those big emerald green eyes glittered with excitement.

"Yes!" He exclaimed, reaching for his horse's stall door latch. Inside, a black and white pinto pony whinnied inside, probably in excitement as well from what I guessed. Unlatching it, I stepped back a little, watching ever so closely as Michael stepped in with a grin, "Hey Oreo, I missed you!"

The little pony nudged him with his nose as my brother wrapped his arms around his neck in a hug. After the short embrace, he reached for the bridle and placed it on Oreo, then latched the lead to a lead ring, "C'mon, Oreo." Michael clicked his tongue signaling Oreo to come with him into the main area of the stalls where Shelby and Alyssa were patiently waiting. Alyssa grinned as she saw Oreo walk out.

"Sissy, do me next! Do me next!" She squealed with glee and clapped her hands. I laughed at her excitement, placing a hand on top of her head and ruffled her hair. Several horses in their stalls snorted and whinnied creating the most perfect atmosphere for anyone. Days like this couldn't have made me any happier or relaxed than where I was now.

"Hold on Alyssa, let me get Mikey's saddle put on then we'll get you good to go." I said as I turned to my brother, "Get your helmet. I'm not taking any chances on you guys getting hurt."

I then watched him snarl his lip up in protest, though he knew better than to say anything. With a simple nod, he walked over to where three helmets hung and grabbed them all by the straps. Handing them out to Alyssa and Shelby, he then placed his on his head. I smiled seeing his shaggy hair form curls around the circumference of the helmet and over his ears. I walked into to the equipment room, pulled his saddle off of it's holder, and walked back out setting it on Oreo's back. After inspecting every latch, buckle, and strap I nodding in confirmation that it was deemed safe for my brother to get on.

"'kay Mikey, have at it." I spoke as I walked to Alyssa's pony's stall. A palomino pony stood patiently in her stall as I unlocked it and opened it, "C'mon Snickerdoodle."

Why on earth my sister named her horse _Snickerdoodle_ is beyond me, but whatever made her happy I suppose. I put her bridle on, latched the lead to her bridle and lead her out of her stall where I then strapped the end of the lead to an iron loop, going back into the equipment shed and retrieved Alyssa's pink saddle. I shook my head at it as I did the same procedure on Snickerdoodle. Alyssa's semi-toothy grin, excluding two front teeth brought me great joy. I kneeled down beside the palomino mare and looked at my sister, "Alrighty, Alyssa. Come 'ere."

The little blonde haired child ran to me with a laugh that echoed throughout the whole stable, though it seemed to spook Snickerdoodle. She shied away slightly with a grunt, my hand instantly grabbing a hold of her bridle, while my other hand wrapped Alyssa tightly against my body.

"Easy, Doodle." I said, "What's wrong with you?" After a moment, the little mare calmed down, though, warily, I looked down at my sister, "Be careful, Alyssa."

"I will, Abby!" she whined out, those puppy dog eyes of hers always got me. I smiled softly as I gave her a slight boost onto her pony. Straightening up, I turned to see Shelby getting her strawberry-roan appaloosa mare, Dot, out. As much as I wanted to scold her, I knew that she was getting old enough to do things on her own.

I let out a small sigh, "Shelbs, you know I don't want you getting Dot out by yourself."

She looked at me, "Abby, I'm ten years old. I can do things by myself."

"I know this, but you know mom and dad…mostly dad, freaks out when you do." I replied as I walked over to her and Dot, stroking the mare's nose. Shelby's piercing green eyes stood out from her freckled face, her curly brown hair pulled into a poofy ponytail. She pursed her lips in agitation.

"Well, I can do things on my own; I don't know why they don't see it!" She grumbled out, turning on her heel and walked into the equipment room to get her saddle. I shook my head at my sister. As aggravating as she can be at times, I knew she meant well. I knew how she felt and I still do.

I stood back, watching every move she made, every buckle, latch, and strap she tightened, I watched intently to ensure she wouldn't get hurt. I was lenient compared to my parents, though at times, I would even say I was as strict as them. My brother and sisters were only kids. Hell, I was still _only a kid_. My father didn't see it though.

After I helped Shelby get onto Dot, despite the aggravated blows from her, I went back to Dunn's stall and got him out. The stunning sorrel stallion pranced his way out of the stall with a whinny as I patted his side. I only grabbed a blanket, throwing it over his back and hoisted myself onto him. The only thing that I had to keep him under control was his bridle and reigns, "Alright guys, do you want to go on the long trail or the short trail?"

"Long!" The three of the said in chorus, and with a roll of my eyes, I smiled.

"How did I know?" I muttered, placing a hand on my thigh where my Smith and Wesson .09 millimeter handgun was strapped securely. I never left without it, for the exception of school, "'kay, Mikey, you're up front. Shelbs, you're in the middle, and Alyssa, you're in front of me."

My brother looked back at me with a smile as he nudged Oreo in the sides. The pinto gelding began walking, followed by the appaloosa mare, then the little palomino. Gently nudging Dunn, he then began to walk, the sounds of hooves hitting the floor echoed until we made it outside until they were dull thumps. It was a beautiful day after all, so why not make the best of it?

As the day proceeded, the four of us enjoyed our day out in the sun. Resting beside the pond that was on our property, Oreo, Dunn, Dot, and Snickerdoodle stayed near the water's edge drinking as I kept an eye on my siblings who ran around and played tag, whilst I sat in the grass. I couldn't help but have an unsettling feeling in the pit of my stomach. Maybe I picked up on what spooked 'doodle, but whatever it was, I didn't like it. Something just told me to run or fight, and I frowned at that. Things like that doesn't normally happen to me while I'm home, but I guess as a hunter, you have to keep your wits about you. This world wasn't as safe as someone who didn't know of the dangers of the supernatural would put it.

Thirty minutes ticked by and the feeling still didn't leave. It sat hard and uncomfortable making me stand up. Dusting off the dirt and grass from my shorts and the backs of my thighs, I looked at my sisters and brother, "Guys, I think it's time to go. Something's not right."

Shelby threw her hands up in protest while Mikey groaned out, and Alyssa looked like she was about to cry.

"We just got here, Abigail!" Shelby complained.

"I know, but, I-I don't know," I said shaking my head, "I just have a bad feeling. Like something bad is gonna happen. Don't question me."

She growled out in agitation, grabbing up her helmet and clambered up Dot. Alyssa slowly walked up to me with her helmet, "Do we really have to go?"

I smiled sadly at my sister, "I'm afraid so, Alyssa. I don't question my gut. Let me get you on Doodle." She nodded slowly as I lifted her small frame up onto the palomino. Once again, the little pony shied with a small whinny and I frowned. _What is with this horse?_ I thought as I ensured that my sister wouldn't get hurt, _I'm going to have to talk to mom and dad when they get home._

Seeing that Mikey was on Oreo and secured, I made my way to Dunn and hoisted myself onto him, "Go to the stables, and I'll handle all of the horses. Get to the house." I said loud enough for them to hear. With unspoken nods, we all made it back to the stable double time. I hopped down, going to Alyssa, then to Mikey, and finally to Shelby.

Getting ready to open her mouth, I gave her a dark look, "Don't say a word, I mean it Shelby. Get to the house and start pouring salt at every door and window seal, Alyssa, Mikey, you do the same."

I took off all the saddles, and bridles to the horses and showed them back into their stalls. Patting each one on the rump, I shut the stable doors behind me pulling out my handgun. The feeling worsened by the minute as I slowly made my way around the house, checking its perimeter. With a shaky breath, my hands mimicked the action as well. Over the course of my perimeter check, my heart rate shot up. Seeing that it was all clear, I made my way back to the front of the house. The sky, by this time had turned to an ominous dark gray, lightning streaking every now and then in the distance.

Opening the door, I stepped over the line of well placed salt. My eyes flickered to each window and door seeing lines of salt where they needed to be. That feeling ebbed away knowing that my siblings had done something right, and for that, I was relieved. Getting to the living room, I found the twins and Alyssa sitting on the couch, their backs turned to me. I blew out a sigh.

"You guys did well," I said, "I'm going to call Mom and Dad, see how long it's going to be when they get here."

"_Oh, _that isn't needed." A voice said from behind me. I spun around to see a man with coal-black eyes. My face paled the second his visage changed into a creature far more terrifying than anything that I had seen, "_My_, you're an interesting girl."

"How-how'd you-?" I stammered out, gripping my handgun tightly. The demon let out a menacing laugh as he flicked his hand causing my weapon to fly from my hands. I gasped out in fright.

"Courtesy of Alyssa," he said, "Little thing broke a salt line in the kitchen." My head snapped in her direction, my heart hammering against my chest, "Oh, don't worry. They're not harmed…yet. Something tells me that your parents aren't far from home." The demon took a step towards me, causing me to back up. With a smirk, I found myself up against the back of the couch, "So, _sit_ and relax."

I felt my body fall backwards and onto the couch, a heavy weight washing over me inhibiting my ability to move. It felt as if it were getting heavier and heavier by the second, causing me to gasp out for air. The man with black eyes stalked around the couch to where I could see him and grinned wickedly.

"Why are you here?" I found myself asking, trying to be brave for my brother and sisters.

The demon tilted his head, "I have a bone to pick with your parents, and for that to happen, I have you four. Especially _you,_" He placed his hands on my shoulders, getting eye level with me. My breath hitched in my throat as he got closer to my face. I struggled to move my face away from the demon finding it futile to do so. Lifting up my chin with a hand, I heard Alyssa screaming as his head went backwards and a stream of black smoke flew out of his mouth. It circled around the living room before making its way back to me and slammed into my body. My eyes squeezed shut, wondering if this was it. Only to peek and see that it retreated back into the man.

A look of seething rage fueled by fear engrossed his face as he roared out causing Alyssa and Shelby to start crying. It pained me to see them looking at me with fear in their eyes. Mikey sobbed and screamed as they all struggled to move. The demon reeled back with another roar of anger, smashing a lamp next to my head. I flinched, feeling the shards of glass cut across my exposed skin.

"If you're going to kill me, then do it!" I shouted, "Leave my sisters and brother alone!"

"Oh, I don't want to kill you. You," he said laughing, shaking his finger at me, "_You_ are a prize!" He disappeared, only to reappear behind Mikey, grabbing him by his hair, thrusting his head backwards to expose his throat, "_Him?_ He's nothing."

"_NO!"_ I screamed out, as the man suddenly pulled a knife out of nowhere and brought it across his throat. Scarlet blood gushed out as I watch my only brother die in mere seconds. The demon shoved his body to the floor, his blood pooling around him as Shelby and Alyssa both started to scream louder, "Mikey! No, please! No, no, no…" I whimpered out as I heard the door to the house slam open, "_Mom! Dad!_" I screamed out.

"Abigail!" I heard my father shout out as he and my mother ran into the living room, only to hear my mother cry out over Michael. I couldn't move my body to see their faces, but I could only imagine. Tears began to flow freely down my face as my breathing became harder and harder to process. I ended up blacking out shortly after, only to hear more shouts and screaming echoing in my subconscious.

With a gasp of breath, I jerked back into consciousness, sitting straight up. My head whipped around the room wildly finding that I was able to move and stumbled clumsily to my feet catching sight of my brother and sisters on the floor in a bloody mess. I choked back a sob, stepping over them as I ventured into the dining area. I halted upon seeing my mother on the floor not moving. Covering my mouth with my hands, I fought back hot tears continuing where I knew my father would've led the demon.

The room was dark, albeit the only lighting that had filtered through was the lightning that had streaked across the sky every now and then, "Dad?" I called out hoarsely.

After a few moments of silence, I heard a sinister chuckling from the far side of the room and coughing from my right, "Abigail, don't."

I jumped back, quickly running my hand on a switch revealing the demon standing in a devil's trap while my dad laid on the ground, a pool of blood around him, "Dad..._no."_ I whimpered out, falling to my knees near him. Hearing the squelch of my knees sliding in his blood, I cringed inwardly though I gently touched his chest, eyes falling on the knife that had wedged itself in his chest cavity. I knew in truth that he was slowly dying, and from the looks of it, he wasn't going to last long, maybe three hours tops.

"Well, lookie here." The demon said with a grin, "All that's left is _you_."

"Shut. Up." I ground out, not looking at the wicked creature inside the trap. My dad blinked several times trying to get his eyes adjusted on me.

"Abigail, get out of here." He rasped out, "Call John. Just, get out of here."

I shook my head, "_No_, Dad…please, I can do this…"

He gave me a stern look, "Abigail, that's an _order_, leave."

I shook my head again, "_No_." Slowly standing up, I turned to face the demon. Anger and sorrow flourished within me in angry torrents as the demon smirked.

"Oh how precious. Little angel, you can't do anything." He spoke with disdain.

I closed my eyes, taking in a deep breath, "_Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus_," I spoke out slowly.

The demon began laughing, "Is that all you got?"

"_Omnis satanica potestas_," I continued the exorcism as if my life was ending. I could hear the demon curse at me and yell to obscure the exorcism. I knew my dad was counting on me. I had already failed him with my siblings. "_omnis incursio infernalis adversarii_," I opened my eyes to see the demon's face scrunch in pain, "_omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica_." All at once, the demon fell to his knees, his head flying back in a scream as the black smoke billowed out of his mouth once more and engulfed the roof of the room when fire cracked through the smoke then it dissipated. I let out a shaky breath, turning to my father. He looked up at me with dull eyes.

"I told you to leave," he began watching me shake my head at him.

"I'm not going to leave you by yourself…" I said quietly, "it's my fault…I-I couldn't—"

He raised his hand slowly touching my shoulder, "You did what you were supposed to. It was already waiting for you four…" He cringed, "I'm so sorry, Abigail."

I slowly shook my head as tears began to fall, "Dad, I could've done something…" My father coughed harshly before groaning out in pain, "Dad…don't…let me get the ambulance…"

He shook his head, "_No_, no ambulances…." He spoke out harshly, "John Winchester is a little over an hour out from here. Call him. He'll be here before Bobby or Rufus ever could…"

I nodded, getting up ignoring the fact that my legs were caked with my father's blood. I hurried into the kitchen where the phone was at and picked it up. Racking my brain through the several phone numbers that I knew, I tried so hard to remember John's.

_Ugh! Why can't I remember his number?!_ I screamed out mentally as I finally came up with one. Dialing the number, I placed the phone to my ear and heard the phone begin to ring.

_One ring…two rings…Oh, come on!_ I thought out on the brink of sobbing out of fear, "_Hello?"_ I heard his gruff voice answer.

"Is this John?" I asked quickly.

"_Yeah, who is this?"_

"John, I have no time to talk, it's Abigail…something bad's happened to dad and mom," A sob ripped through my throat as I pressed my forehead to the wall, "Please, hurry….I don't think Dad's gonna make it."

Instantly I heard the roar of the Impala's engine get louder, "_Stay close to your Dad, Abigail. Do. Not. Leave him for any reason. Do you hear me?_"

"Yes…please hurry," I whimpered out.

"I'm on my way." I heard the phone click and I started sobbing, placing the phone on the hook. Everything was happening so fast that I couldn't even think. Wiping my tears with the back of my arm, I gathered myself and went into the bathroom grabbing an armful of towels. Practically running back into the room where my father was at, he looked up at me with furrowed brows.

"Did you call John?" He asked weakly as relief seemed to wash over him when I nodded. I kneeled beside him and placed a few towels under his head as a way to give him a pillow. I then noticed his body shaking, and I knew that he was growing cold from the impending blood loss. Laying the rest of the towels over him, I sat and looked at him numbly. My entire family was about to be gone in the matter of hours or minutes.

His chuckling broke me from the numbness, "I remember when you were born, Abby…" he said softly, gripping my hand though I barely felt his grasp, "You were so beautiful…just like your mother, you still are…You've made me so proud."

My lip trembled, forcing out a small laugh, "Dad…"

"Remember when you were five and we were making your mother a cake?" he asked and I nodded.

"Yeah," I said quietly stroking his cold face, "You sung me Hank Williams…"

He gave me a bloody smile, "_Say hey, good lookin' - what ya got cookin'? How's about cooking somethin' up with me?_" He coughed harshly, but continued to sing, "_Hey, sweet baby - don't you think maybe, We can find us a brand new recipe?_"

"I got _a hot rod Ford, and a two dollar bill, And I know a spot right over the hill_," I joined in, "_There's soda pop and the dancing's free, So if you wanna have fun, come along with…me_." My voice cracked horribly when I heard a series of boots hitting the hardwood floor from the other rooms.

"Abigail?" I heard John's voice call out with urgency. I slowly turned my head.

"In here," I called back hoarsely, when the sound of boots became faster and stopped.

My father looked up seeing John and grinned, "Well, look who it is." He said with a weak grin.

John looked at him with pity, but nonetheless smiled back at his friend, "You look like shit."

My dad began laughing, only to stop when a surge of pain went through him, "Too bad you were already born that way, Winchester." He bit out with a lop-sided smile.

John crouched, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder, "Get you a bag and start packing," John said, "I'm going to speak with your father."

I looked up at him, teary eyed and nodded slowly, standing. I slowly emerged into the living room where John's two kids, Dean and Sam looked at me. Sure I knew them well, though Dean and I didn't really get along. Sam and I however, we were pretty close since he was closer to Michael's age.

Dean looked at me almost in surprise, his eyes on the blood that had covered my clothes and legs. Sam gave me a pitiful look that told me instantly that he was crushed about what had happened. I merely nodded at the two of them, then cast my gaze to the floor as I made my way to the stairs that was nearby.

"Hey," I heard Dean's voice call out. I paused and looked at him with tears in my eyes, "Everything's going to be alright…" I knew he meant well, but I shook my head slowly unable to speak without fear of me falling apart in front of them. I pushed my chocolate brown hair behind my ear as I climbed the stairs and onto the landing where I shuffled to my room.

Shutting the door behind me, I slid down the door and began crying. I curled up, bringing my blood covered knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around them as I sobbed. After a good five minutes of sobbing, I stood up moving to my full length mirror. I looked awful as I peeled my shirt off, bringing it down on my legs in an attempt to clean my father's blood off of my legs. I scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed until a good bit of it came off. A soft knock pecked on my door as I straightened up, pulling my shirt back over me, and slowly opened the door to see that it was Sam.

Without saying a word, he hugged me tightly around the waist and began crying. Holding him close, I fought back tears, "Hey," I said softly, "Do you want to help me pack?"

He nodded against my chest, "I-I can't believe this happened to you, Abigail."

"I'm fine," I replied softly. Of course, that was a lie and a half. I was nowhere _near_ fine, "I promise." Big brown eyes looked up at me with tears in them as I wiped them away with my hands, "C'mon." I turned to my closet, digging out two duffel bags and handed one to Sam, "Just find my pants, shirts…things like that, alright? I've got everything else covered."

With a small nod, Sam started grabbing my jeans from my closet, rolling them up in the best way possible to cram whatever clothes I was taking with me…which brought me to the question, _where was I going_? I frowned, standing at my dresser as I pulled out my underwear, bras, socks, and a small jewelry box that my parents had given me when I was five. Placing everything into the duffel bag that Sam was stuffing several shirts and jeans into. I then moved to my bed, getting down on all fours and pulled out a large travel backpack. Sam's brows furrowed.

"What is that?" he asked, pausing what he was doing. I looked up at him and unzipped the backpack revealing all of my hunting equipment; maps, journals, GPS, flares, even MREs and extra handgun clips. His brows rose, impressed, "Whoa."

I smiled softly, "Yeah…always prepared for something…just…not this. I don't think anyone is prepared for this…" I shook my head, "I'm alone now." I felt Sam grab ahold of my arm.

"No, you have me, Dean, and Dad." He replied, "We'll take care of you."

I shook my head, "I highly doubt that, Sammy…"

"I'm serious, Abigail," he replied with sincerity in his voice, "I-I'll talk to Dad."

I only ruffled his hair, "I'm sure, Sammy." I stuffed the last of my things into the second duffle bag. I bit my lip, "I'm going to clean myself up…If your Dad asks, I'm just finishing up."

With a nod, Sam looked at me sadly before walking out of my room. Getting both duffle bags and backpack, I drug them into my parent's room where I pulled out a few of my father's shirts stuffing all but one into them. I slipped into their master bathroom, twisting the hot water knob to their shower. Peeling off my shirt, shorts and undergarments, I stepped into the scalding hot stream of water and just stood there. My body was so numb, I wondered to myself how I was even functioning before I willed myself to grab a bar of soap. I started to scrub my body as hard as I could to the point I could actually feel pain. I scrubbed till I felt as if I was clean from everything. If I was dreaming, then this was one hell of a nightmare and it was working. Scrubbing my head with shampoo didn't seem to do any good either. I was sure that I had started bleeding from digging my nails into my scalp over and over again.

Once I was done, I stepped out enveloping myself in a towel drying my body off. Putting on a bra and underwear, I stepped into a pair of my mother's lounge pants, pulling on my father's shirt by means of comfort. My wet hair hung loosely when I slopped it up into a half-assed bun and walked out. By the time I walked out of the master bath, I could hear Dean and John's voices very loudly as if they were in an argument.

_Great._ I mused, picking up my bags. I stopped in front of my mother's jewelry box and managed to stuff all of her things into mine. This was it. I was alone for good. I took a large breath as I picked up my bags and walked down the stairs, seeing John and Dean look up at her from their argument.

"Did you get everything you wanted?" John asked curtly. I nodded at the man, glancing to the room where my father was at. I knew he was gone, "Dean, help her with her things. End of discussion."

He rolled his eyes at his father, walking over to me and grabbed a duffle bag, "Let me get it."

"I'm fine," I looked between the two men, "Really, I am."

John's brows furrowed, though he gave me a look of pity and merely nodded, "Alright. Put your things in the back of the Impala."

I willed my legs to start walking, and I did. Everything I did, I did so that the Winchester's couldn't see me breakdown little by little. I held my head up high as I walked by Dean and out the door. Sam sat on the front steps with a sour look, telling me that his father and him had words as well, though, he brightened up somewhat as I walked by him.

"Hey, Dad's letting you stay with us!" Sam said with a smile. I stopped looking at him.

"Seriously?" I asked a little taken aback, "How?"

He shrugged, "He won't say."

I nodded, "Alright…" I looked at the black Impala sitting within a few feet of me, _My new home_. I gazed over to the stables sadly.

"That demon," he said looking over at the stables as well, "it killed them…"

Tears pricked at my eyes once more, "What?"

Sam shrugged, "Dean checked there before coming inside, that's what he said."

I nodded again, then started to walk to the car, Sam running ahead of me to pop the trunk. I managed to get my foot under it, and swiftly lifted the trunk lid as it rose; catching it with my chin. Sam laughed a little bit at my workmanship causing me to smile lightly at him. Placing all of my things into the trunk, I slammed the lid down at the sound of a match being struck, turning around. John tossed down a lighted match watching a trail of fire rush into the house. He and Dean rushed off of the porch and grabbed the both of us-Dean with Sam, John with me-and shoved us into the backseat of the Impala.

"We need to be out of here quick," Dean said, "This place is about to blow, and the cops are going to be crawling all over." He sent me a quick glance laced with hidden pity, before turning back to his dad, "Are you sure this is a good idea bringing her along with us?"

John sent him a glare, "_Yes_. It's the least we can do."

Dean let out a harsh breath as the Impala sped down my old driveway; a loud explosion from my old home shook the Impala. I clenched my jaw to prevent me from crying and lowered my head when it finally hit home.

Sam looked at me with a soft grin, placing a hand on mine, "Welcome to the family," He whispered. I glanced at him momentarily with tears in my eyes and smiled lightly at him.

The ride away from everything was quiet, for the exception of the radio playing a Guns N Roses song. I couldn't help but notice John looking at me every now and then through the rear-view mirror. I would avert his gaze to out in the night, watching the sky turn from an array of blues and purples to the blackness of night. The moon hung in the sky ever so lonely, stars twinkling and spreading out as the ride progressed.

Sam had long since been asleep, curled up in the backseat with his head on my lap as I stroked his hair absentmindedly as I had done with Mikey. I couldn't help but look up to see Dean's head turned towards me, eyes staring into mine for a moment then turned back to the front. I felt like I was being pitied by what had happened. At the moment, I didn't care. In one hand, I held my mother's rosary, fingers running over the crucifix in a silly attempt to be comforted, while my other hand laid on Sam's shoulder.

Before I knew it, I had fell asleep.


	3. Woman in White

**Hello Everyone, I hope you guys enjoyed reading the first chapter. This story will start out in the first season of Supernatural and proceed on until we can make it to Season 9...perhaps 10. Whichever I see fit. I'm still looking for someone who could lend a helping hand on editing, so please forgive me if there are mistakes out the yin-yang in this chapter. If you do see one, please just shoot me a private message and let me know so I can address it as soon as possible! (:**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Supernatural franchise (Just Abigail, any future characters pertaining to her, and any non-Canon storylines.)**

* * *

_12 years later…_

_October 31st, 2005_

_Scranton, California_

Classic's "_What Cha Gonna Do,"_ blasted over the speakers in the Halloween decorated bar. Faux cobwebs with spiders hung in the corners, with silly little décor of skeletons and dancing werewolves hung on the walls alongside with the posters of swimsuit models. I found it relatively amusing as I took a long pull of beer, the musty amber liquid sliding down my throat as I swallowed. Positioned in the shadows of the bar, I couldn't help but catch sight of a group of college students. A small smile tugged at my lips as I glanced down at my hands before laying down the money for another round. The bartender winked at me with a grin, laying down my second beer along with the money and a napkin.

"On the house," he said as he turned back around to serve the other patrons. My brows rose as I turned to walk back to where I was at originally, taking a long drink in the process. It had been a long drive from Louisiana to California, given the few pit stops between Arizona and New Mexico. Finishing off my beer, I slowly stood up upon seeing a boy, obviously a friend of theirs, laugh and joke with them. In the pit of my stomach, a painful tug made me frown…maybe there was another way around this.

Before I could be seen, I slid out of the bar's entrance unnoticed and into a shadowed area when a firm hand gripped my arm tightly, pulling me further back from the parking lot. I looked down upon being pressed up against a small tree, "What did I tell you about going in that bar?"

"I wanted to see him…" I answered softly, feeling the grip loosen and a hand gently lift my chin up in order to look into a pair of beautiful hazel eyes. Seeing that he wasn't mad, I smiled, placing my hand on his cheek, feeling the day old stubble scratch coarsely against my palm, "He looks so happy," I said shaking my head, "I just…"

After a few moments, he let out a sigh, "I know," came his reply, watching as his thumb traced my bottom lip before pressing his against mine. Butterflies of all sorts and sizes fluttered wildly in my stomach when I returned the favor, feeling him press his body against mine. After a few moments into our kiss, he drew his head back a little ways, hearing the doors to the bar open. Glancing over his shoulder, the both of us watched as the couple walked by without noticing us in the shadows. My heart sank once again seeing how happy they were.

"Dean, are you sure that we have to bring him back?" I muttered when he looked back at me, pressing his forehead against mine. Gazing into my eyes, our noses touching, he merely nodded.

"As bad as I hate it, yeah." He admitted, "This is Dad, we're talking about."

I nodded in understanding, "I know." I whispered, wrapping my arms around the man I spent my teens, as well as early twenties with.

"What's the call?" Dean asked, peering down at me with a smirk, "Fetch, or don't fetch?"

Looking up at him, I peeked over his shoulder, "Um…probably not a good idea right now if you catch my drift." I said grinning. Dean chuckled at me shaking his head, in turn, shaking mine in the process. Slowly, I slid my hands up his shirt feeling the sculpted muscles that was hidden between his shirt and jacket, until they found their way to his chest. Unmoving, Dean stared at me with a lustful glint in his eyes when I traced a finger down his stomach, resting on the hem of his jeans, and kissed him.

His hands found their way to my waist, sliding the hem of my shirt up a little ways where his thumbs began massaging the dip where my hips met my jeans. Deepening our kiss, our tongues entwined with each other, dancing and fighting as a surge of warmth began from my toes to the top of my head, and a blissful sensation that I knew too well created a ball of tension in my lower belly.

Once again, Dean parted the kiss, though leaving his lips a few centimeters away from mine as a grin took place, "You think we have time?" he asked waggling his eyebrows playfully.

Looking into his eyes, I saw a glimmer of lust and hope as I smiled, giving him a quick peck on the lips, "Why yeah, I don't see why not." He grinned, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.

"C'mon, sugar-pie," he declared, "Time's a wastin'." I couldn't help but laugh as we emerged from our hiding place in the shadows and began walking down the street where we had to leave the Impala. As Dean saw it; his baby, his pride and joy…you know a couple of nicknames to name a few. Watching as Dean looked at the car with adoration made my heart smile. Just seeing his eyes light up like a child on Christmas made me feel glad to know that there were a few things in this life of ours that made him happy.

**Midnight**

I think it was around midnight or so when Dean had decided it was time to get our brother. After pulling on my boot, I stood up looking at Dean. He looked as if he were in deep thought.

"What's the plan?" I asked, seeing him blink a few times and look at me.

"Huh?" he asked as I snickered at his bewilderment.

"What's the plan?" I repeated, rounding the back of the Impala and wrapped my arms around him, "You know, whenever we get Sam? Is this going to be a temporary thing, or is this going to be a permanent deal?"

Dean rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "I haven't really gotten that far, to be honest."

I rolled my eyes; _he's smarter than what he gives himself credit for_, "Sure you do."

With a smile, Dean wrapped an arm around my waist bringing me closer to him, "You know me better than I know myself sometimes," he tilted his head slightly, "_which_, is kinda creepy."

Laughing, I couldn't help but look up at him with endearment, "Oh come on, Dean. You need to give yourself some credit. You're amazing." In the brief few seconds, I noticed a look of shock creep across his handsome visage before quickly masking it.

"Really?" he asked.

I nodded, "Mhmm, really." He glanced down at his boots for a moment, unsure of what to say. Placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder, I kissed him on the cheek, "I know we don't say it often, but…I love you. I couldn't imagine what my life would be like right now…" I hesitated for a moment reliving the night I lost my whole family, "_if_ I would even be alive right now without you, without Sam, or without Dad." I chewed on my bottom lip at the thought of what might've happened that fateful night.

Feeling Dean's grip around my shoulder tighten, I could feel him tense at the thought of it as well, "I'm glad that it ended up as it did, Abs. Everything that's happened," He shook his head looking at me, "I wouldn't trade it or turn back time or any of those." I gazed at him for a moment not sure what to say and with that, he kissed me on the lips; pulling away shortly after studying my face, "Right back at you," I smiled softly, knowing he meant well when he said that. He straightened up, then smacked my left buttock with a wink, "Well, sugar-pie. Enough of the chick-flick moment, we have a brother to get."

Shoving his hands into his jacket pockets, Dean started to walk towards the fire escape side of the apartment building. I laughed to myself as I easily caught up to him before reaching the metal ladder.

**Sam's Apartment**

Climbing through the window the Sam's apartment deemed a little experience all on its own accord. The entire reason was that Dean made _no_ attempt to keep quiet. After I climbed in, I moved out of the way when Dean made his ungraceful entry. I looked at him with lips pressed in a thin line and furrowed brows, only to receive an innocent look and dismissive shrug. I rolled my eyes at him. That was Dean alright. Aloof and lighthearted no matter how dire the situation was. It was just one of those things that came with the package.

Walking down the corridor in silence with Dean in front, his heavy footfalls seemed to thunder throughout the dead quiet establishment. It honestly made me cringe. Allowing him to move further, I paused at a beaded doorway, taking note of the iron segmented beads.

_Old habits die hard_.

I found myself smiling stupidly at such a little thing. I couldn't help it thought. It was Sam. Snapping back out of my thoughts, I heard a series of thuds and the sounds of a fist connecting with a target.

_Oh damn_, I thought as I slowly approached a doorway that Dean must've went through to see the tall, hulking figure of Sam lashing out with a kick in retaliation as the shorter figure of Dean narrowly missed the hit. The two fighting men disappeared into another room allowing me to sneak in unannounced until the undeniable thud of someone being pinned grabbed my attention, so I stood at the doorway seeing that Dean had pinned Sam to the ground.

Folding my arms, I grinned stupidly at the two.

"Dean?" Sam asked, bewildered causing Dean to laugh in response, "You scared the crap out of me!"

"That's cause you're out of practice." Dean remarked when Sam suddenly grabbed him by the hand, planted his heel into his brother's back and flipped Dean underneath him. I clapped my hand over my mouth to prevent myself from bursting out laughing, "Or not." I heard him add in a grunt. With a chuckle, Sam tapped him on the shoulder ending Dean's patience, "Get off me."

Deciding it was my time to shine, I grabbed Sam as he was beginning to stand up into a headlock, "How's about it, Sammy?" I asked with a grin, catching Dean's grin as well.

"Abigail?" Sam asked in surprise, getting a hold of my arm as a reaction. Letting him go, I stepped back beside Dean, "What the hell are you guys doing here?" He asked in bewilderment.

With a smile, Dean placed his hands on Sam's shoulder, "Well, I was looking for a beer." He shook him gently, though upon seeing his brother's stony look, he frowned letting him go.

"What the hell are you guys doing here?" He repeated in a serious tone. Dean and I exchanged glances before looking back to Sam.

"Okay," I said with a bit of uncertainty in my voice, "Alright…we gotta talk."

Sam looked at me, "Uh, the _phone_?"

"If I'da called, would you have picked up?" Dean asked.

With a guilty look, Sam opened his mouth with the beginnings of a reason when the light to the room flipped on, catching sight of the girl I saw earlier with Sam but this time in a pair of super short shorts and a slightly revealing cropped Smurf shirt.

A confused look made it clear as to why there were two intruders in the apartment, "Sam?" she asked, as Sam and Dean looked at her in unison.

"Jess. Hey," Sam began, "Dean. Abigail, this is my girlfriend, Jessica." The corner of my mouth tipped up into a lop-sided smile as I slowly shook my head, rolling my eyes at Dean looking at the poor girl with appreciative eyes.

Realization perked on Jess's face and she smiled, lifting a hand, "Wait, your brother, Dean?" Sam nodded giving Dean the opportunity to grin and step closer.

"Oh, I _love_ the Smurfs," he said looking Jess up and down, "I gotta tell you; you are _completely_ out of my brother's league."

Giving Dean an uncomfortable look, she moved backwards a bit, "I…just let me put something on." She said with furrowed brows. I couldn't help but sympathize the poor girl. I don't know how many times I would fall for that same thing when we were younger. The dangerous look Sam gave Dean, however, went completely ignored.

"No, no, no," He said stopping her, still grinning, "I wouldn't _dream_ of it. _Seriously._"

A moment of uncomfortable silence fell between the four of us until Jess looked over in my direction, when her uncomfortable demeanor changed into something of long awaited recognition. Not really having time to move or _think_ about moving, Jess had already wrapped her arms around me in an embrace, "You must be Abigail," she said with a grin stepping back, "Sam's told me so many stories about you," she laughed a little bit at herself, "it's like I've known you my whole life."

I glanced over to Dean with a look of 'I did better than you,' and grinned, "Awe, well, good stories I hope, 'cause I have a _lot _stories I could tell you about Sammy here." Sam's eyes widened slightly upon me saying this, because I'm pretty sure he started squirming. Dean smirked, taking his place beside me and wrapped an arm around my waist, soon earning a curious look from Sam as he glanced between us.

Jess laughed, "You have to tell me some of them sometime."

"_Oh_, I plan to." I promised with a smile. I already liked this girl. _Good choice, Sammy_.

Dean cleared his throat, indicating it was time to get back to business, "Anyway, we gotta borrow your boyfriend here," he said, taking Sam by the shoulders and turned, "talk about some private family business. But uh…nice meeting you."

Sam pulled away from him with furrowed brows, "No." he stated shaking his head earning a worried glance from me as he moved to Jess's side, wrapping a protective arm around her, "No, whatever you two want to say, you can say it in front of her."

Dean turned his back to his brother with the lack of patience he had.

"Okay," I said with a small nod of my head.

Turning around, Dean looked to me with a glimpse of a worried expression before he looked at Sam, "Um, Dad hasn't been home in a few days."

Sam looked at the both of us before scoffing and dragging his eyes to the ceiling in an eye roll, "So he's working a Miller Time shift. He'll stumble back in sooner or later."

Pursing his lips at Sam, Dean ducked his head down, then back up having to say something about our lifestyle, "Dad's on a hunting trip."

Sam furrowed his brows, "And he hasn't been home in a few days." I finished, trying to get most of the heat off of Dean. Expression not changing, I allowed a few moments of silence to fall between the four of us so that the news could sink in. I noticed Jess look up at my brother with a worried look on her face.

"Jess," Sam stated, "Excuse us, we have to go outside."

**Stairwell**

Dean and I were already out in the stairwell of the apartment waiting for our brother to step out. Dean's hands were in his pockets, head tipped back slightly against the wall while I put some of my body weight on the wrought-iron banisters. From inside, the two of us heard Sam and Jess conversing, however from between the plaster, it muffled everything out. The door to the apartment opened as Sam stepped out, shrugging on a hoodie with a look of annoyance.

Dean and I straightened up, "Well?" Dean asked, "You coming with us or not?"

Sam furrowed his brows, "No," he replied with a shake of his head.

Rolling his eyes, Dean turned heading down the steps, "Why not?"

Letting out a sigh of exasperation, Sam followed suit as I brought up the rear, "I mean, come on." He began, "You and Abigail just can't break in, middle of the night, and expect me to hit the road with you guys."

Dean continued down the stairs, "You're not hearing me, Sammy," he said, "Dad's _missing._ We need you to help us find him."

"You remember the poltergeist in Amherst? Or the Devil's Gates in Clifton?" Sam asked, "He was missing then, too. He's always missing, and he's always fine." Dean stopped short, turning to face him. Sam stopped as well as the two of them stared. I couldn't help but feel nervous; Dean was on the fritz with his dad missing. Yeah, I was with him, but I knew as long as Sam was with us…where he could actually see him, he would be alright.

I could see Dean's aggravated, though calculating gaze at his brother when his eyes flickered over to me. I looked at him empathetically, leaning on a handrail slightly. He shook his head, "Not for this long. Now are you gonna come with us or not?"

Sam shook his head once more, "I'm not." He repeated.

"Why not?" Dean asked. I rolled my eyes at how hardheaded this man was. He doesn't take no for an answer.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Sam looked at Dean, "I swore I was done hunting." He stated, turning his head slightly to look at me as well, "For good."

Dean scoffed, "Come on. It wasn't easy, but it wasn't that bad." He started downstairs again as Sam and I followed.

"Yeah? When I told Dad I was scared of the thing in my closet, he gave me a .45." Sam replied.

Stepping onto the landing, Dean paused at the door that lead outside as the wrought-iron bars cast exotic marks across the two men's handsome visages from the streetlights shining in from outside. He looked to his brother, "Well, what was he supposed to do?"

Sam raised his hands slightly, "I was nine years old! He was supposed to say, don't be afraid of the dark."

Dean scoffed with an irritated roll of his eyes, "Don't be afraid of the dark? Are you _kidding_ me?" he asked pointing a finger, "Of course you should be afraid of the dark. You know what's out there."

Sam cast a glance to the floor between them, "Yeah, I know, but still," he said lightly, "The way we grew up, after Mom was killed, and Dad's obsession to find the thing that killed her." Dean glanced outside, the muscle in his jaw ticking. I shifted behind Sam knowing that it was a touchy subject to bring up his parents…_hell_, I knew it was a touchy subject for me as well, "But we still haven't found the damn thing. So we kill everything we can find."

"We save a lot of people doing it, too." I finally spoke earning looks from both of the boys. I side-stepped Sam to stand near Dean, who took a hold of my hand and squeezed it slightly as a meaning of thanks.

Sam nodded slowly, then looked at Dean, "You think Mom would have wanted this for us?" Dean rolled his eyes in irritation, "What about your family Abigail? What would they have wanted?"

I furrowed my brows, "I'd be doing what I do now. _Hunting_. If I didn't know you two…if you guys didn't get into this, I'd be doing what I do now to keep you two safe whether you knew it or not." I shook my head, bringing my hand to my forehead before I blew out a hot breath, "I'm not gonna argue with you, Sammy."

I slammed the door open, hearing Sam call out my name as Dean and I walked out and up the small flight of stairs that led to the parking lot.

"The weapon training," Sam continued, "and melting the silver into bullets? Man, Dean, we were raised like warriors. Abigail was already there." He stated as we crossed the parking lot to where Dean and I had parked the Impala earlier.

When we reached the black car, Dean turned, "So what are you gonna do? You're just gonna live some normal, apple pie life? Is that it?" he accused.

Sam shook his head, "No, not normal. Safe."

"And that's why you ran away," He said, looking away. I placed a hand on his shoulder

Sam sighed, "I was just going to college. It was Dad who said if I was gonna go I should stay gone. And that's what I'm doing."

"Yeah, well, Dad's in real trouble right now," Dean replied looking at Sam again, "If he's not dead already. I can _feel _it."

Sam had fallen silent from Dean's heated onslaughts.

I frowned, "We can't do this alone, Sam." I said softly earning a soft look from my brother.

His lips tipped up into a light smile, "Yes, you can." Like two scolded children, Dean and I looked down. I knew it was useless to get him into helping us.

"Yeah, well, we don't want to," Dean countered before looking up at Sam once more. Slowly, I lifted my head seeing the wheels go around in his head before bowing his head as well, then back up.

"What was he hunting?" Sam asked, giving up. In a flash, Dean had rounded the Impala and opened the trunk, then the spare-tire compartment that contained the hidden arsenal. I watched as he propped a shotgun before sifting through the clutter with a scrunched face in thought. I rolled my eyes at him knowing that I've told him to organize it several times.

"Alright," I heard him murmur, "Let's see, where the hell did I put that thing?"

I shrugged at him, "I don't know, but if you had done what I asked you to do, you may not have this problem." I smiled as Dean contorted his face in a mimicking manner, pushing things aside. _So childish_. I thought hearing Sam chuckle from beside me.

"So, when Dad left," he began, "Why didn't you guys go with him?"

Dean shrugged from behind the opened trunk, "Abigail and I were working our own gig," he said as he continued to look, "This, uh, voodoo thing down in New Orleans. Got it done, but at a price." I caught the guilty look in his eyes when he glanced towards me then back at the trunk. I smiled softly at him knowing all too well that he thinks he has to take full responsibility of what had happened there.

Sam blinked in astonishment, "Dad let you go on a hunting trip by yourselves?"

Straightening up, Dean looked at him with a frown, "I'm twenty-six, dude." Then with a grin he pulled out some papers from a folder, "Alright, here we go," he announced, "So Dad was checking out this two-lane blacktop just outside of Jericho, California. About a month ago, this guy," he said as he handed a paper to Sam, "They found his car, but he vanished."

I crossed my arms, leaning against the Impala, "Completely MIA." I added as Sam looked at a printout of the Jericho Herald headlined "Centennial Highway Disappearance', after he finished reading he looked up.

"So maybe he was kidnapped." He suggested.

"Yeah, well, here's another one in April." Dean said dismissively as he tossed down another article, "Another one in December '04, '03, '98, '92…_ten _of them over the past twenty years." He stated tossing down each one for each date he mentioned before taking the article back from Sam and placed them back into the folder.

"All men, all the same five-mile stretch of road," I said as I walked over to Dean's side pulling out a bag from another part of the arsenal then a map, unfolding it, "It started happening more and more, so Dad went to go dig around."

"That was about three weeks ago. We haven't heard from him since, which is bad enough," Dean cut in reaching into the bag that I had pulled out and got a recorder out, "Then I get this voicemail yesterday." He said pressing play on the device before the sound of static and the cell signal clearly breaking up.

_Dean...something big is starting to happen...I need to try and figure out what's going on. It may... Be very careful, Dean. Watch your sister closely. We're all in danger._

Dean pressed stop looking at Sam.

"You know there's EVP on that?" Sam pointed out earning a smirk from Dean and I.

"Not bad, Sammy," Dean said with a smile, "Kinda like riding a bike, isn't it?"Sam shook his head at his brother with a roll of his eyes, "Alright, I slowed the message down, I ran it through a gold wave, took out the hiss, and this is what I got."

He pressed play as a feeling of apprehension washed over me waiting for the voice to come over the recorder's speakers, _I can never go home…_ it said eerily instantly giving me chills as he pressed stop once more.

"Never go home?" Sam asked, looking at the two of us. Without a word, Dean dropped the recorder in with the arsenal, laid down the shotgun as he straightened up and shut the trunk before leaning on it. I pressed my lips in a thin line, placing a hand in reassurance on his shoulder.

He sighed, looking up at Sam, "You know, in almost two years I've never bothered you, never asked you for a thing."

Guiltily Sam looked away from the both of us as he weighed his options. Looking back he sighed in defeat, "Alright, I'll go." He finally said, "I'll help you guys find him." I tried hard not to smile and wrap my arms around Sam's neck. Standing beside Dean still, I squeezed his shoulder lightly as he nodded, "_but_," he added, "I have to get back first thing Monday. Just wait here." He turned his back to us heading back towards the apartment.

"What's first thing Monday?" I called out in curiosity.

Sam stopped, turning slightly to look at me, "I have this…" he hesitated, "I have an interview."

"What, a job interview?" Dean asked, "Skip it."

"It's a law school interview," Sam answered, "and it's my whole future on a plate."

Dean smirked, "Law school?" He glanced over to me as I stood with a smile plastered on my face. I was thoroughly impressed with him.

"So we got a deal or not?"

Seeing that Dean wasn't going to say anything, Sam shrugged and turned back to the apartment leaving us to wait for him.

"_Law School_?" Dean scoffed out in disbelief as he leaned up against the Impala and took me in his arms. I grinned at the scowl on his handsome face. Placing my hands on both of his cheeks, I kissed him lightly.

"I think it's great." I admitted as he sighed, obviously in disagreement. I frowned, gently rubbing my thumbs against the stubble on his face, "You sure this is a good idea?"

Pulling his head back slightly, he arched his brow, "Yeah," he responded, "You and I both know that you're not over with whatever that witch doctor hit you with."

"I'm fine—" I was quickly cut off by the look he gave me, I looked down at the necklace he had on, slowly running my hand down to his chest and began to thumb it to avoid his gaze. I found myself doing that a lot whenever we had disagreements. It was true though. I still felt sluggish and fatigued two weeks after the incident. Dean lifted my chin to make me look at him. Gazing into those hazel eyes I chewed on my bottom lip softly, "I'm just looking after you, Abigail."

"I know," I mumbled, "Just…don't leave me here, alright?" That was when he shifted slightly. I frowned at him slightly hurt, "Really, Dean?"

"It's just until Monday," he replied in an attempt to persuade me into staying.

To be completely honest, I could've thrown a tantrum that would've deemed a toddler mature. Deciding against it, I pressed my lips in a hard line and gave him a hard look, "_Dean,_" I growled out.

He sighed, "Okay, okay. Fine. You can come," My looks softened into a small smile, "But you're staying in the car."

I shrugged, "Fine," I replied, "Besides," I said, trailing my nails up his back and lightly across the back of his neck causing him to visibly shiver, "We have _way_ too much fun, don't we?" I asked when he grinned, seeing that twinkle in his eyes.

"_Oh_ you know we do," he said pressing his body against mine. My eyes slid shut when I felt him tip his head towards my neck, trailing hot kisses against my feverish skin.

"Good lord," I moaned out softly running my nails through his hair, hearing his chuckle against my neck. Goosebumps rose on my skin from the contact. Lost in our moment, it ended upon hearing someone clearing their throat. Dean straightened, his hands on my waist still, as we turned our heads to see Sam staring at us with a bewildered look.

"Um, you guys ready?" He asked with an uncertainty in his voice as Dean pulled away from me, nodding. I stepped back as he opened the backdoor to the Impala; smiling at him as I climbing in the back. Closing the door, he winked after getting in the driver's seat. Sam opened the passenger's door to the back of the Impala putting his bag in the seat, throwing a look of curiosity at me. I shrugged innocently at him before he closed it and got in the front with Dean.

_Gas Station-Day_

_November 1st, 2005_

I had awakened from a hard sleep to see that it was daylight outside and that the Impala was now stationary. I blinked several times as laid in the backseat still hearing the Allman Brothers' _Ramblin' Man_ play on the radio. Finally sitting up, I looked around with stretch seeing that we were stopped at a gas station. Sam sat in the front seat sifting through Dean's vast collection of cassettes with an irritated look on his face.

"Mornin' Sammy," I drawled out through a yawn catching his attention. He turned his head to look at me.

"Hey, good morning Abigail," he replied with a smile, "Did you sleep alright?"

Resting my back against the door to the Impala I shrugged, "I guess, yeah," I said, "Didn't wake up screaming or anythin'."

I could see concern drifting across his face, "You still do that?" he asked in disbelief.

I shrugged again, "Every now an' then," I glanced out of the car curiously, "Where's Dean?"

Sam took in a breath, "Uh, he went to put gas in the car."

I nodded before rubbing my eyes, "Law school?" I asked again seeing him nod slowly, "I'm happy for you, Sammy."

He looked up at me with smile, "Thanks…" He opened his mouth to ask something until Dean called out to Sam.

"Hey," I heard him causing Sam to look out of the window, "You want breakfast?" he asked as he rounded the car, lifting up his arms seeing that he had two bags of junk food in tow. He grimaced at Dean.

"No thanks," he answered.

Dean shrugged, "Suit yourself," he replied as he passed me a Danish and a jerky stick, then a rather large cup of coffee. I grinned at him, "Hey you," he said planting a quick kiss on my lips, "You sleep alright?"

I shrugged again, "Can't complain, but you know, I got props for the driver," I replied with a lop-sided smile, "_Smooth_."

He chuckled, giving me a wink, "Anytime, cherry-pie." I laughed gently before lifting the cup to my lips and took a long, desperate slug of the hot liquid. Instantly, I felt recharged.

_Thank God for small favors._ I thanked in my mind. I simply adored that man standing outside of the Impala, there was no question about it.

I noticed that Sam had taken a moment between the exchange and small banter to give us another curious glance once more. It must've been awkward for him to see his '_love em and leave em_' brother with the girl who grew up with the both of them playing the role as their sister. I smiled inwardly at him. We were always close. He was always able to confide his secrets in me, as well as I in him. Even before Dean and I were together, he would set out with another girl that fancied him during the time, leaving me with Sam. I didn't mind. Even if I had a date, Sam was always welcome to go with me.

"So," Sam began, "How'd you pay for that stuff?" he asked, "You and Dad still running credit card scams?"

Dean shrugged placing the nozzle back on the pump, "Yeah, well, hunting ain't exactly a pro ball career," he replied wiping his hands on his jeans, "Besides, all we do is apply. It's not our fault they send us the cards."

Sam arched a brow at his brother, "Yeah? And what names did you write on the application this time?" he asked swinging his legs back inside the car, closing the door.

"Uh, Burt Aframian," Dean replied getting into the driver seat, placing his soda and chips down in the middle, "And his son Hector. Scored two cards out of the deal." He smiled, closing the door.

"That sounds about right," Sam said, then sighed loudly with a look of contempt, "I swear, man, you've gotta update your cassette tape collection."

Dean looked over to Sam with furrowed brows of confusion, "Why?" he asked.

"Well, for one, they're cassette tapes. And two," he stated, then held up a cassette tape, "_Black Sabbath_?" He picked up another, "_Motorhead_?" and finally the last one, "_Metallica_?" Dean frowned, then snatched the box labeled _Metallica_ from him, "It's the greatest hits of mullet rock."

"Well, house rules, Sammy," Dean began after popping the tape into the player, "Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole."

I laughed a bit leaning against the back of the front seat, "What about me?"

Dean looked over with smirk, "Sugar-pie, you just sit there and look pretty," he replied dropping the cassette box back into the box of tapes, starting the engine "also, no backseat driving." He added with a serious look on his face making me roll my eyes and laugh more.

"You know," Sam began, "Sammy is a chubby twelve-year-old." AC/DC started to play, "It's Sam, okay?" He asked looking at the two of us.

Ignoring Sam, Dean turned up the music, "Sorry, I can't hear you, the music's too loud." He replied as he pulled out of the gas station.

_Later that day…_

Several hours later barreling down the highway, Dean must've broke the speed limit between the gas station to where we were at now. I sat in the backseat with a cellphone plastered to my ear with a sweet smile on my face.

"Thank you, I appreciate it," I replied then shut it. Plopping it in my lap, I put both of my hands against my head, messaging my temples allowing a relieved sigh to escape. Looking up, I saw Dean peering into the rearview mirror looking at me with question in his eyes. Straightening up, I ran a hand through my tangled brown hair, "Alright, so," I began, "there's no one matching Dad at the hospital or morgue. So that's something, I guess." I stated seeing him nod as relief washed over him; Sam seemed to relax visibly as well.

Something caught Dean's eye, "Check it out." He said as Sam and I leaned forward to see a bridge ahead of us with two police cars and several officers walking around. Pulling over, the three of us sat in the car giving the scene a long look before Dean turned off the engine. He then leaned over, opening the glove compartment and pulled out the box that contained a series of ID cards. Sifting through several with mine, his, or John's faces, he picked out two; one of him and one of Sam, and grinned at him. Sam only stared at him.

"Let's go," he said, before glancing back at me with a cheeky look.

"What?" I asked, "I'm staying right here." Dean chuckled, absently cupping a hand on the back of my head and planted a soft kiss on my forehead as he and Sam climbed out of the car. I watched as the two men walked towards the scene on the bridge and I realized that, being left out sucked a big one. I frowned deeply as an uncomfortable knot formed in the pit of my stomach. It made me both antsy and nauseous at the same time. I groaned, basically flopping backwards, then realized that my cellphone still sat in my lap.

Instantly, I grabbed it and dialed Dean's number, watching him pause a ways away, then turned with his cellphone in hand. I grinned.

_"Yeah?"_ I heard him ask.

"Put me in your pocket?" I asked hearing him chuckle over the line, seeing his shoulders moving up and down slightly.

_"As you wish, nosey ass."_ He replied, practically hearing the smile in his voice.

I smiled from the backseat, "Thanks."

_"No problem,"_ he replied. Then the audible sound of the phone rubbing against cloth crackled in my ear making me pull my phone away from my ear with a small cringe. Ahead, Dean and Sam began walking towards the scene again, the sounds of their voices muffled by Dean's jacket. If it was one thing John Winchester has drove into our minds, it was always to be calm and stay level headed, no matter how dire the situation was. Play your part and act like you belong there. Granted, my father had said the same thing as well. I frowned at the thought of him.

_"So, this kid Troy,"_ I heard a voice say, "_He's dating your daughter, isn't he?"_

I straightened up, looking out of the window, "_Yeah_." I heard another voice reply.

_"How's Amy doing?"_ The first voice asked sincerely.

_"She's putting up missing posters downtown,"_ the second person answered.

_"You fellas had another one like this last month, didn't you?"_I heard Dean cut in. I noticed two officers near a car that was against the edge of the bridge.

_"And who are you?"_ The first voice asked as Dean flashed his badge.

_"Federal marshals_," Dean replied casually.

_"You two are a little young for marshals, aren't you?"_The voice asked skeptically causing Dean to laugh.

_"Thanks, that's awfully kind of you_," Dean replied moving towards the car, "_you _did _have another one just like this, correct?"_

The officer nodded, "_Yeah, that's right_." He looked between Dean and Sam,_ "About a mile up the road. There've been others before that."_

_"So, this victim, you knew him?"_ I heard Sam ask.

The officer nodded, "_Town like this, everybody knows everybody_."

_You have no idea,_ I mused in my head mildly watching Dean circle the car, inspecting it carefully.

"_Any connection between the victims, besides that they're all men?_" Dean asked

"_No_," The first officer replied, "_Not so far as we can tell._"

"_So what's the theory?_" I heard Sam ask as he went over to Dean.

"_Honestly, we don't know_," the deputy said, "_Serial murder? Kidnapping ring?"_ I kinda felt sorry for how naïve these people were. Having no clue of the real dangers that this world was capable of. I frowned a little, watching the scene in front of me.

"_Well, that is exactly the kind of crack police work I'd expect out of you guys_." I heard Dean blurt out. Instantaneously, my heart jumped into my throat at his outburst. _Oh my god, really Dean?_ I thought. I then heard a dull _thud_ and Dean grunting in pain, when I realized that Sam had stomped Dean's foot. I silently thanked the heavens.

"_Thank you for your time."_ I heard Sam quickly say, finishing their conversation before he started to make his way back to the Impala, "_Gentlemen_." He added. With a deep scowl, Dean followed suit. Seeing that they were halfway away from the deputies, Dean smacked Sam upside the head.

"_Ow!_" I heard him grumble out venomously, "_What was that for?_"

I rolled my eyes, _Boys_.

"_Why'd you have to step on my foot?_" Dean countered heatedly.

"_Why do you have to talk to the police like that?_" Sam shot back in anger, still walking until Dean side-stepped and moved in front of him forcing Sam to stop walking. I couldn't see Sam's face, but I could tell that he was irritated.I pursed my lips slightly until I saw the Sheriff's cruiser pull in.

"Dean," I chirped into the phone, "Sheriff."

He didn't hear me, "_Come on."_ Dean said, "_They don't really know what's going 're all alone on this. I mean, if we're going to find Dad we've got to get to the bottom of this thing ourselves._"

"_Dean,_" I said rather loudly as the Sheriff stepped out of his cruiser, followed by a black Tahoe and two FBI agents stepped out from it, _shit, "_Dean_, really, _shut up_!"_

Hearing Sam clear his throat and motion his head over Dean's shoulder in a suggestive manner, Dean turned around to see the Sheriff.

"_Can I help you boys?"_ I heard the Sheriff ask rather demandingly.

_"No, sir,_" Dean replied quickly, "_we were just leaving."_ The two FBI agents walk past him as he nodded, "_Agent Mulder, Agent Scully_." I smacked my forehead against the back of the front seat. _Only him._ I thought before looking up to see them both making their way towards the car now. Letting out a sigh of exasperation and in relief, I shut my phone, laying it beside me as Dean reached into his jacket, and closed his as well before they both climbed in.

"So, what now?" I asked when Dean looked over his shoulder at me.

"We gotta a distraught girlfriend to find," he replied.

_Jericho, California_

The three of us walked down the sidewalk towards a theatre that had 'Emergency Town Hall Meeting, Sunday 8PM, Be Safe Out There' written across the marquee sign where we saw a girl dressed in a brown leather jacket with long fringes hanging freely, her long dark brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, reaching into a messenger bag pulling out a 'Missing' poster and tacking it up on the board outside the theatre. Already getting into an argument with Dean about me being in the car quickly ended, knowing he was pressing his luck by telling me I couldn't go with them to just walk. Of course, bribing him with a certain extracurricular activity _did_ help me win the argument as well.

Inside, I was beaming from my victory. Outside though, I had my game face on as we made our way across the street towards the girl.

"I'll bet you that's her," Dean murmured. Sam and I nodded in agreement.

"Yeah," he replied.

I smiled sweetly as we approached her, "You must be Amy," I said realizing that my drawl had reared its head big time, earning a suspicious look from the girl.

"Yeah," she replied warily.

"Troy told us about you," I continued with a smile in an attempt to reassure the girl, "I'm his aunt." I introduced, "I'm Abigail, and these two are his uncles," I added gesturing my hand behind me, "This is Dean, my husband and this is his brother, Sammy." I cringed inwardly about blurting out the word _husband_. I could only imagine the look Dean had on his face. The only face I was focused on at the moment was Amy's, and from the looks of it, she wasn't playing.

"He never mentioned you to me," she replied curtly, walking away. I frowned, usually that get up worked. We followed her.

Dean chuckled, "Well, that's Troy, I guess," catching her attention, "We're not around much, we're up in Modesto." I glanced up at him for a moment, seeing him looking at me with a look that said, _we'd talk later_.

_Crap_, I said in my mind.

"So, we're looking for him too," Sam stepped in as well, "and we're kinda asking around."

Around that time, another girl walked up to Amy putting a hand on her arm, "Hey, are you okay?"

Amy looked to her and nodded, "Yeah."

"You mind if we asked you a couple of questions?" I asked as both girls nodded slowly.

_Diner_

Sitting beside Sam in the booth across from Amy and her friend, Rachel. Dean sat in the booth behind the two girls with a bored expression on his face. I knew better than to think that he was. In truth, he was far from being bored. His eyes ever watchful, paying attention to his surroundings, to the other diners around us while he left the questions to Sam and I.

"I was on the phone with Troy," Amy muttered, "He was driving home. He said he would call me right back, and..." she sniffled, "he never did."

I rested my elbows on the table swirling a spoon through the cup of coffee that sat in front of me, "He didn't say anything strange, or out of the ordinary?" I asked. She shook her head solemnly.

"No," she replied, "Nothing I can remember."

"Here's the deal, ladies," Dean cut in from behind him, "The way Troy disappeared, something's not right. So if you've heard anything..." His voice trailed off when Amy and Rachel exchanged nervous glances.

"What is it?" Sam asked.

"Well, it's just..." Rachel began, "I mean, with all these guys going missing, people talk."

"What do they talk about?" Sam and I spoke in chorus causing the girls to look at us awkwardly. Truth be told, it was awkward.

Rachel laughed dismissively, "It's kind of this local legend," she started off, "This one girl? She got murdered out on Centennial, like decades ago." With furrowed brows, I nodded at her to proceed unaware of the looks that Sam and Dean had given me. I was soaking this up! "Well, supposedly she's still out there," Rachel continued, "She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up? Well, they disappear forever." Straightening up, I glanced to Dean and then to Sam.

I had a feeling that things were about to get interesting.

_Library_

I honestly didn't think any place could've been any darker than the diner, but I was wrong. _So_ wrong. It was like there wasn't any thing called lights at all in that place! It smelled musty and ancient. I walked over to the computers where Dean and Sam where at as I ventured back from the newspaper clippings and looking through old magazines from ten years ago. I wasn't impressed with the place.

"Any luck?" I asked, pulling up a rolly chair on the other side of Dean. With the sour look on Dean's determined face, I took it as a no. Folding my arms, I leaned back into a reclined state, "I 'spose that it would kill them to change out these light bulbs, huh?"

Dean cracked a smile while he was typing in something along the lines of _Female Murder Hitchhiking_ in the archive page for the Jericho Herald. Clicking 'go', the screen popped up saying that there wasn't anything found. With pursed lips, Dean then replaced 'hitchhiking' with 'Centennial Highway', ending up with the same response.

Sam, sitting on the other side of him, was watching intently, "Let me try." He said reaching for the mouse only to have his hand swatted by Dean.

"I got it," Dean grumbled. With a sigh, Sam grabbed the back of Dean's chair and shoved him away from the desk, only to roll in his spot, "Dude!" I watched in amusement seeing Dean roll his chair back up and returned the favor with a punch to Sam's shoulder, "You're such a control freak."

With a simple roll of his eyes, Sam dismissed his brother, "So angry spirits are born out of violent death, right?"

I thought for a moment, "Yeah."

"Well, maybe it's not a murder," Sam murmured soon replacing 'murder' with 'suicide' finding an article entitled "_Suicide on Centennial_." Dean and I glanced at him, then to the screen as he opened the article with a date of April 25th, 1981.

"This was 1981. Constance Welch, twenty-four years old, jumps off Sylvania Bridge, drowns in the river." Sam summarized, scrolling down the page as an image of Constance showed up. I couldn't help but feel bad for her loss, she was a beautiful woman with long brown hair.

"Does it say why she did it?" Dean asked.

Sam nodded, "Yeah, an hour before they found her, she calls 911," he said scanning the article once more, "Apparently her two little kids are in the bathtub. She leaves them alone for a minute, and when she comes back, they aren't breathing. Both die." Dean's brows rose in astonishment.

"Damn," I murmured softly seeing the screen scroll up to reveal more of the article and another image of a bridge.

"'Our babies were gone, and Constance just couldn't bear it,' said husband Joseph Welch." Sam added. After a moment of scanning the image of Joseph Welch something had piqued Dean's interest.

"The bridge look familiar to you?" he asked making me look at it, when it dawned on me. We were there earlier.

_Sylvania Bridge-Night_

That night, the moon hung high in the sky as a cool breeze wafted around Sam, Dean, and I. The evident smell of rotting fish, trash, or sewage clung to the inside of my nose making it kind of hard to breathe at times as we walked along the bridge and stopped, leaning over the railing to look down at the river. Judging from how some large rock jutted out from the water, it was no wonder that it would be easy for someone to commit suicide if they hit the water wrong, landed on the embankment wrong, or on a rock.

A shiver ran though my body making me wish I had grabbed my jacket when we left the Impala, but something told me that it would've been a bad idea. Hell, something didn't feel right period. I was only in a thin gray shirt, a pair of worn-in jeans, and a pair of converse. Stupid me, eh?

_It's just the witch doctor's doing, don't worry about it_, I chanted in my head a couple of times.

"So this is where Constance took the swan dive," Dean stated with a smirk.

Sam looked over to his brother, "You think Dad would have been here?"

He shrugged in response, "Well, he's chasing the same story and we're chasing him." Straightening up, Dean began walking towards the Impala soon followed by Sam and myself.

"Okay, so now what?" Sam asked.

"Now we keep digging until we find him," Dean replied wrapping an arm around my shoulders, "Might take a while." He added lifting his hand slightly on my shoulder. Upon his response, Sam stopped short behind us.

"Dean, I told you, I've gotta get back by Monday—"Sam said softly.

Dean and I halted, turning around to see him. He nodded slowly, "Monday. _Right_. The interview."

Sam nodded slowly as well, "Yeah."

Dean allowed his arm to fall from my shoulders, "Yeah, I forgot. You're really serious about this, aren't you?" He asked, "You think you're just going to become some lawyer? Marry your girl?" I shifted uncomfortably beside him. This wasn't going to end good.

Sam shrugged, "Maybe. Why not?"

"Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know about the things you've done?" Dean asked in a serious tone. He did have a point, _did_ she know about us and what we do and have done?

Sam bristled up, taking a few steps closer to Dean, "No," he bit out, "and she's not ever going to know."

With a scoff, Dean looked at his brother incredulously, "Well, that's healthy," he replied, "You can pretend all you want, Sammy. But sooner or later you're going to have to face up to who you really are." With a shake of his head, Dean wrapped his arm around me once again as we began to walk back towards the car. Hastily, Sam followed.

"And who's that?" Sam challenged.

With a dismissive shrug, Dean replied, "You're one of us."

I could literally feel the tension rise between the two men as Sam rushed ahead to get infront of us, "No. I'm not like you and I'm not like Abigail. This is not going to be my life."

"You have a responsibility to—" Dean began before being cut off by Sam quickly.

"To Dad?" Sam spat out, "And his crusade? If it weren't for pictures I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like. And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, Mom's gone. And she isn't coming back."

Without a second thought, Dean had let go of me and grabbed Sam by the collar of his shirt and jacket, shoving him up against the railing of the bridge. Before I could even react, I covered my mouth with my hands to prevent myself from either yelling at them or gasping out in shock. In all, it wasn't that shocking. I knew Dean had so many things pent up inside him and how he felt about anyone saying anything about the death of his mother. Sam's face made it clear that he was taken off guard, almost bracing for Dean to hit him or something, though he didn't. The two men stayed like that in silence.

I shifted uncomfortably where I stood; feeling that something or someone was watching us. I wrapped my arms around myself to prevent an onslaught of chills from wracking my body, hearing both Sam and Dean breathing heavily. Slowly, I approached the seething man, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder as an attempt to bring him back out of his mood. I felt the hardness of his coiled muscles loosen up a hair, when I heard Dean let out a barely audible sigh.

"Don't talk about her like that," I finally heard Dean say quietly, before letting his brother go and turned to me. I didn't say anything, though; I only offered a hand out in comfort. Taking it, I turned so that we could start back, realizing that when I did, I saw a woman standing on the edge of the bridge wearing a billowing, tattered white dress, and long brown hair. I glanced over to Dean, he saw what I saw.

"Sam," Dean said alerting him. Standing next to us, the woman looked over. Without saying a word, she stepped off and into the river. The three of us sprinted hearing the metallic clanks of the grates under our feet hit against each other as we approached where she stood on the railing and looked over, searching for a sign of her.

"Where'd she go?" I asked, feeling my heart racing in my throat.

Sam shook his head, "I don't know."

Out of nowhere, the Impala's engine turned and started, the headlights coming on. I felt the icy chill of fear rip through my veins when I slowly turned around with Dean and Sam to look.

"What the—" Dean said, bewildered.

I turned my head to Dean, "Who's driving your car?" Placing his hand into his pocket, Dean pulled out the keys to the car, jingling them. Sam gave them a worried glance before the car jerked suddenly into motion, barreling straight for us. My heart sank into my stomach.

_Constance is trying to kill us!_ I screeched in my head.

"Guys? Go! Go!" Sam called out, as I felt a hand grab my arm tightly and spin me around; I looked to see that Dean had grabbed me, as he pushed me in front of him to start running. Sam wasn't far behind us. Glancing over my shoulder every now and then, I would push myself that much more upon seeing the Impala get closer with every step that we had took. Whenever it _did_ get too close, Sam and Dean dove across the railing first, then me.

I fell what seemed to be ages, readying myself for whatever impact I was about to face. Then, I was enveloped in mind-numbing water, my air supply gone as water rushed into my sinuses and mouth; a sharp pain erupting in the side of my head. The force of the current pulled me against several sharp rocks in my attempt to surface to get air, when I finally was able to get a grip. I swore I thought I heard a soft, calming voice in the back of my mind urge me to swim to the shoreline despite how my arms and legs were cramping up from the cold water. I didn't waste no time until I broke surface, pulling my body onto the shoreline like the voice had said. I coughed harshly until my lungs hurt my chest, my head throbbed and I realized that I was also shoeless.

Honestly, I didn't care. I was just glad to be out of the water and onto muddy, yet solid land. I laid there hearing Sam shouting for Dean frantically, then for me. Turning my head, I slowly lifted up an arm, "Over here!" I forced myself to shout back. I saw Sam on the bridge above.

"Abigail! Stay there!" Sam shouted to me, "Dean's coming to you!"

I shook my head, "I'm fine! Really!" Forcing myself to sit up. Bringing my legs to my chest, I rested my head against my knees for a moment, then heard brush crack from behind. I jumped up quickly, getting dizzy in turn, to see a soaked to the bone, muddy Dean. He quickly closed the distance between us, enveloping me in his arms.

"Are you alright?" He asked, taking a step back, putting his hands on both sides of my face, inspecting me closely. Placing mine over his, I smiled softly, looking into his eyes.I could see in his eyes that he was frantic about my being in the river as well.

"Dean, I'm fine," I replied, "I promise." I noticed him frowning deeply, brushing his fingers across my forehead in order to push away my hair out of my face.

"You're bleeding," he murmured.

_No wonder my head hurts, good lord._ I thought as a chilled wind wafted over me and I shivered.

Dean sighed, "C'mon, let's get back to the bridge."

I laughed a little, "Gonna check on your baby?" I asked earning a sheepish smile from Dean.

"You know I gotta check on my girl, sugar-pie," he replied wrapping an arm around me as we started up the hill, "What happened to your shoes?"

I drew my lips in a thin line, "I, uh…lost them."

Dean began chuckling, "I've never saw someone lose shoes as much as you do, Abs."

I tilted my head against his muddy shoulder, "Funny how things happen to us, huh?" I hopped a little bit after I stepped on a sharp twig, "_Damn it that hurts_!" I hissed out. Dean then stopped and I looked at him curiously, "What?"

"Hop on," he said turning his back to me.

I stared at him, "I'm not hopping on your back, Dean, it's a hill."

He shrugged, "I'll chance it."

I rolled my eyes, "Fine." I hopped on his back, feeling him grasp my legs tightly as he began our ascent up the hill. He struggled a little as he packed me on his back, "Dean, are you sure you can haul me up this hill?"

"Abigail," He puffed out, "I'm _sure_ I can haul your light ass up this hill."

I shrugged, "Okay, then." Not that I minded it or anything, it was just a steep hill. But before I knew it, we were up at the road, "I can walk from here." He nodded, allowing me to slide down his back and onto the warm pavement. Dean placed his hands on his thighs to catch his breath for a moment, then straightened up-flicking the mud off. We walked back to the bridge where Sam jogged up to us.

"Hey," he said with a worried look on his face, "You guys alright?"

I glanced at Dean, "Yeah, I reckon we're good."

Sam's eyes went to my forehead and he frowned, "You're hurt."

I swatted his hand away from my head, irritated now, "Sammy, I'm fine." Sam gave me a look of disbelief, though simply nodded. Dean had already gone to the Impala, beginning his close inspection to make sure that Constance hadn't damaged _Baby_ in any way. Sam and I leaned against the railing watching him silently. I twisted my hair, straining the muddy water from it, then proceeded to wring the water from my shirt.

Sam glanced down to see me without shoes on, glancing back up to me, "Uh, what happened to your shoes?"

I looked down, then up to him, "They're somewhere between back there and here." I replied, pointing a finger where I was at from the fall and behind me, then I shrugged, "Hell, for all I know, they can be all the way downstream."

Sam laughed lightly at me as we heard the hood of the Impala close. We looked over to see Dean leaning on it with an irritated look.

"Your car alright?" Sam asked.

Dean nodded, "Yeah," he answered, "Whatever she did to it, seems alright now." His eyes narrowed where we had seen Constance, "That Constance chick, what a _bitch_!" He yelled out ensuring that whatever was around, heard him.

"Well," I said joining Dean on the Impala, wiping mud off of his jacket, "She doesn't want us digging around, that's for sure."

Sam settled down on Dean's right, "So where's the job go from here, genius?"

In frustration, Dean threw up his hands shortly laying them on his jeans, only to realize that they were caked with mud still. He looked down at them with an irritated look and flicked his hands to get rid of the mud.

Something had made Sam started to sniff the air around him bringing attention to what I was desperately trying to ignore, then turned towards us with an unpleasant look on his face, "You two smell like toilet." He deadpanned. Dean and I looked down at ourselves. I smelled horrible, and the two of us sitting together smelled even worse. I didn't blame him.

"Oh the joys of a hunter," I said dryly, earning smirks from both Sam and Dean. It was time for a motel and the need of a shower was readily calling my name.

_November 2nd, 2005_

_Jericho, California_

_Motel_

Thankfully when we drove back into Jericho, the search for a motel was a short one. I didn't feel like getting out, so Dean and Sam had went in to get us a room. I rested an elbow on the window, leaning my head on my knuckles as I began to drift off. What seemed like a few seconds, I jerked awake to the sound of someone banging on the roof of the Impala. Looking around wildly, I saw Sam grinning at me as he laughed. I groaned a little, getting out.

"I don't like you right now," I mumbled rubbing my forehead, wincing as I ran my hand over the knot that had formed in my hairline.

"We found a lead on Dad." Dean said as a flush of hope ran through me. I was awake now upon hearing that.

"Really? What?" I asked.

He nodded down the row of motel rooms, "Guy in there said that he rented out a room for a month, c'mon." I nodded, quickly grabbing a bag that contained mine and Dean's clothes as we made our way to a room on the end.

Dean and I were on lookout as Sam kneeled with his lock pick in hand. Making quick work with the lock, Sam swung the door open and stood, entering the room, soon followed by me. I turned, seeing that Dean still stood as lookout, though it seemed that he was looking distracted about something, so I tugged on his arm, pulling him in.

Closing the door behind me, I flipped on the light.

"Whoa," Sam said.

I blinked a few times in order to get adjusted, then looked around with wide eyes, "Whoa indeed." I commented taking in the sight of the walls being cluttered with old newspaper clippings, research, the familiar scribble of John's handwriting, and of course, maps and photos. I looked over to see a half-eaten hamburger, picking it up and sniffed. I dropped it back on the wrapper in recoil from the putrid smell of it, almost gagging.

"I don't think he's been here for a couple days at least," Dean stated, reading my mind apparently. I turned to inspect the walls as Sam kneeled, fingering at the salt on the floor before he looked up at us.

"Salt, cats-eye shells..." Sam shook his head, "he was worried. Trying to keep something from coming in."

Dean walked over to where I stood, placing his hands on my shoulders, "What have you got here?"

I looked over my shoulder at him, "Centennial Highway victims." My body began to relax as I felt his fingers message the muscles in my neck. I looked back up at the headlines, glancing over each one beginning with one in 1987 of a man by the name of Scott Nifong disappearing, "All of them men."

"I don't get it," Dean started, "I mean, different men, different jobs—" Sam had straightened up from kneeling, crossing the room to look at the papers as well. Dean continued, "—ages, ethnicities. There's always a connection, right? What do these guys have in common?"

I noticed Sam inspecting a series of papers taped up on the other walls. Furrowing my brows, I walked beside Sam and read something about the Bell Witch. Seeing images of two people being burned alive, a skeletal being blowing a horn obviously frightening people with a post-it note saying _Mortis Danse_, a column about _Devils and Demons_, another one about _Sirens, Witches, and the possessed_ hung with them as well. I saw a wooden pentacle hanging amongst the papers as well as another post-it saying _Woman in White_ above a familiar article after turning on another light.

Sam blinked, "Dad figured it out," he said finally causing Dean to turn.

"What do you mean?" he asked, looking at the both of us.

I turned my head to him, "He found the same article we did," I said, "_Constance Welch_. She's a woman in white."

A wry grin played on Dean's face as he turned back to the photos of the victims, "You _sly_ dogs," he stated before turning back to us, "Alright, so if we're dealing with a woman in white, Dad would have found the corpse and destroyed it."

I shrugged, "She might have another weakness."

"Well, Dad would want to make sure." Dean replied crossing over to Sam, "He'd dig her up. Does it say where she's buried?"

Sam shook his head, "No, not that I can tell. If I were Dad, though," he tapped on a photo of Joseph Welch, "I'd go ask her husband."

I walked over to him and looked at the article once more. I chewed on my bottom lip as I read that he was thirty at the time of her death. Counting in my head, he had to be sixty-four by now, "Yeah, if he's still alive." I commented, looking at them ruefully. Dean looked at the image below the article of a haggard looking woman in a white dress. He frowned.

"Alright, why don't you, uh, see if you can find an address," Dean said to Sam, "Abigail and I are gonna get cleaned up." He picked up the bag I had brought in and started to walk into the bathroom causing Sam to turn.

"Hey, Dean?" he began, causing Dean to turn around and look at him, "What I said earlier, about Mom and Dad, I'm sorry." He lifted his arms slightly after his apology as Dean held up a hand to stop him.

Dean looked between me and him, "No chick-flick moments."

Sam nodded and laughed, "Alright, _Jerk_." I covered my mouth with a gritty hand to prevent a laugh from coming out.

Dean smirked, "Bitch."

Sam laughed again as I walked by him, patting him on the shoulder. I smiled at him, as he returned the favor, giving me a quick one-armed hug before I walked into the bathroom with Dean.

_Sam's Point of View_

Watching Abigail and my brother walk into the bathroom, I noticed something. The smile that was on my face quickly disappeared as I crossed the room to look. Hanging on a large mirror, my father's rosary hung loosely from it along with two photos stuck into the mirror's frame. I reached out, plucking them from where they were and looked at them. In the first photograph, I saw dad sitting on the hood of the Impala with Dean in baseball cap and a younger version of myself in dad's lap. I smiled sadly at it, flipping the second image seeing that it was a newer photograph that had Abigail in it shortly after joining us. I couldn't help but smile at the photograph. Abigail stood beside Dad in an embrace as Dean and I stood on either side of them, the Impala in the background. I think I was at least eleven in it. I could see from the image that Abigail was smiling, though her eyes didn't.

_She's gotten better at hiding her feelings,_ I thought to myself hearing Dean and Abigail talking to each other from the bathroom, I rolled my eyes at them.

_Abigail's Point of View_

Getting out of the bathroom before Dean, I sat down on the edge of the bed in a pair of light blue skinny jeans and a Pink Floyd shirt next to Sam who was listening to a voicemail from Jess. He looked distracted by the looks of it. A loud, garbled whine erupted from my stomach making me look down. I realized I was starving.

_Damn you, stomach._

The sound of the bathroom door opening caused me to look up as Dean came out of the bathroom, grabbing his jacket and shrugged it on as he crossed the room, "Hey guys, I'm starving, I'm gonna grab a little something to eat in that diner down the street. You want anything?"

Sam glanced up at him, phone plastered to his ear, "No."

Dean smiled, "Aframian's buying." I got up to join Dean, quickly rethinking my decision after an onslaught of stars and spots obscured my vision caused me to sit back down holding my head when a pounding began in my temples.

Quickly, Dean was in front of me with a concerned look on his face, "You alright?" By this time, Sam had turned to look at me; concerned as well.

I looked at him, clenching my jaw slightly from the pain, "Yeah, I'm fine," I lied with a small smile, "I'm just dizzy from not eating anything."

Dean took my face in his hands tenderly, "You're the biggest liar I've ever met, Abs." I arched a brow at him, saying nothing, "Wanna know how I know?" He asked me, "Your eyes."

I smiled softly at him, "_Dean_, I swear I'm fine."

"What is it?" he deadpanned, not believing me.

I blew out an irritated sigh, "You don't ever give up, do you?" I replied earning a smirk from the man, "I'm just…" I hesitated, "I just have a hellacious headache, and I'm dizzy."

He frowned knowing all too well that I was still suffering from that incident in New Orleans, and the fall off the bridge didn't seem to help it at all, "Damn it, Abigail." Dean sighed, "Just stay here and rest, I'll get us something from that diner," Planting a soft kiss on my lips, I looked at him with adoration in my eyes and nodded slowly, "Sammy, look after her alright?"

Sam stared at us, taking everything in. He surely wasn't used to seeing Dean and I like this, or getting along so well to say the least. He knew that Dean and I had always been at each other's throats one minute and best of friends the next. Before he left for college, Dean and I had gotten into a huge fight at an old friend's place. He blinked and nodded at Dean, "You know I will, Dean."

He nodded, standing up and went to the door, "Be back soon." I nodded at him, scooting back against the headboard and leaned my head against the wall for a moment after Dean closed the door. Closing my eyes, I opened them seeing Sam giving me a look that told me I needed to explain something to him before looking down at his cellphone after it had started ringing.

"What?" Sam answered, earning a look of curiosity from me. Glancing at me, Sam got up. I moved my body at an angle seeing Dean on the phone as two deputies walked towards him. My heart sank.

"What about you?" He asked when I realized that it was Dean talking to Sam. I struggled to my feet as we both went over to the window, frozen in place when he hung up. We watched as Dean turned towards them, shrugging as they had a brief exchange. I grabbed ahold of Sam's arm, trying to steady myself from another dizzy spell.

There, two officers looked in our direction and we stepped back out of sight into the shadows. My head spun, my heart pounding in my throat when I saw them slam Dean up against the cruiser. I really began to fret when one of the deputies began walking towards us. Sam raced around the room, grabbing whatever he could get and handed me the bag of Dean and I's clothes.

"We don't have much time, _c'mon_." He urged as we went to the bathroom, opening the window. I climbed through it first, stumbling when I landed on the ground and caught the bag as Sam threw it out, then finally climbed out of the window, landing beside me. He put his hands on my shoulders, checking if I was okay. I nodded and we took off down the alley behind the motel, not looking back and away from Dean.

_Welch's House_

Joseph Welch's house put me in the mind of a rundown, abandoned house. Weathered, grimy windows caused me to curl my lip up slightly.

"I don't think this would be worthy of being on _Better Homes and Gardens_, huh?" I asked as we walked up to the stoop. Sam rolled his eyes at my joke, knocking on the door. We waited a moment before an older man answered.

"Hi," Sam began in his formality, "Are you Joseph Welch?"

The man looked us over carefully, his eyes landing on me, merely nodding, "Yeah."

"Do you mind answering a few questions?" I asked with a reassuring smile, "Mind if we take a walk?"

He looked at us for a moment before he nodded again, stepping out of his house into the sunlight. Sam and I walked down the junk-filled driveway as Joseph held a photo that Sam had found in the motel room.

"Mind telling me what this is about?" Joseph asked.

"Uh, yeah," Sam began, digging in his pocket and pulled out an old photograph. I looked at it, realizing that it was of Sam and Dean both when they were younger. He handed it to Joseph, "Have you seen this man?"

Taking it, he stared at the photograph, "Yeah, he was older," He answered, tapping the image with a finger, "But that's him." He handed Sam the photograph, "He came by three or four days ago. Said he was a reporter."

I nodded, taking a step, "That's right. We're working on a story together."

Joseph looked at me, "Well, I don't know what the hell kinda story you're working on." He shook his head, "The questions he asked me?"

Sam frowned, "About your wife Constance?"

"He asked me where she was buried," He replied.

"And where is that again?" Sam asked, receiving a look of disbelief from the man.

"What, I gotta go through this twice?" Joseph stated, suspicion dripping off his words. He looked at the both of us. I couldn't much blame him.

I placed a reassuring hand on his arm, "It's just fact-checking," I replied, "If you don't mind."

He sighed after I let my hand fall to my side, "In a plot. Behind my old place over on Breckenridge."

"And why did you move?" I questioned.

Joseph shook his head, "I'm not gonna live in the house where my children died." I stopped walking. I didn't much blame him on that one. That made me think back to my old home. Could I do the same? Sam stopped upon seeing me drift off to my thoughts, followed by Mr. Welch.

"Mr. Welch," Sam said, "did you ever marry again?"

Joseph shook his head again, "No way," he answered quickly, "Constance, she was the love of my life. Prettiest woman I ever known."

Snapping back into reality, I folded my arms, "So you had a happy marriage?" I asked without missing a beat. Sam blinked at me for a moment.

I noticed the hesitation in Joseph, "Definitely." He had replied after a moment.

_Liar_. I thought, I nodded, "Well, that should do it." I looked at Sam, then back to Joseph.

Sam nodded as well, "Thanks for your time." We turned towards the Impala, only for me to stop short, watching his back retreat to the car. I turned back to Joseph, who was already walking away.

"Mr. Welch," I called out, earning both Sam and Joseph's attention, "Did you ever hear of a woman in white?"

Joseph turned, "A what?"

Sam looked at me like I was crazy, I ignored him, "A woman in white. Or sometimes weeping woman?" I received a look that told me I was an idiot.

"It's a ghost story. Well, it's more of a phenomenon, really." Sam stepped in as he took a few steps back to my side.

"Um, they're spirits. They've been sighted for hundreds of years, dozens of places, in Hawaii, Mexico, lately in Arizona, Indiana. All these are different women," I said as we both walked up to Joseph and stopped, "You understand. But all share the same story."

Joseph looked between us with a guarded look, "I don't care much for nonsense." He turned on his heel and walked away. Instantly, we followed.

"See," Sam interjected, "when they were alive, their husbands were unfaithful to them."

Joseph stopped in his tracks. If I could've seen his face, I'm pretty sure that I could tell he was guilty of something, and by the way his body was, my hunch was right.

"And these women, basically suffering from temporary insanity," Sam continued, "_murdered_ their children." Joseph turned around.

_That caught the ole boy's attention_, I thought seeing the shadows of the past flicker in his aged eyes.

"Then once they realized what they had done, they took their own lives. So now their spirits are cursed, walking back roads, waterways. And if they find an unfaithful man, they kill him. And that man is never seen again." I finished.

"You think...you think that has something to do with...Constance? You smartass!" Joseph growled at us in anger.

I smirked, tilting my head at the old man, eyes unwavering from his, "You tell me."

Joseph looked at the ground, then back up at us, "I mean, maybe...maybe I made some mistakes." He began, "But no matter what I did, Constance, she never would have killed her own children. Now, you get the hell out of here!" He pointed a finger at us, "And you don't come back!" He warned. I could see the old man's face shake from either pain or grief. It was impossible to tell. After a moment, he turned and walked away, leaving Sam and I behind.

Sam then turned to me, "What was _that?_"

I shrugged, "I don't know." I admitted, "Something told me that there was more to the story than what Welch was leading on."

Sam shook his head at me, "Sometimes, it's creepy how you and Dean act."

I laughed, "Two peas in a pod, Sammy." I raised a hand, crossing my fingers.

It was at the edge of darkness, Sam sat in the driver's seat of the Impala while I sat on a newfound motorcycle that I had snatched from a bar. I bit into a burger, relishing it. Sam looked up at me, unimpressed. I shrugged, chewing and swallowed the bite of food, taking a drink of pop.

Sam and I sat in silence for a moment, then he cleared his throat, "So, uh…" Sam began, trying to find the words. I looked at him curiously, "You and _Dean_?" He finally said.

I laughed, looking down at the burger in my hand, "Yeah…" I nodded with a smile, "Me and him."

Sam shook his head with a laugh as well, "When did this happen?"

I blinked a few times, scrambling my brain to remember, "Oh lord…" I said, "Uh, probably whenever you were still in school?"

He stared at me with his mouth open, "You mean, Dad let you two-?"

I shook my head, "No, it was just an on and off thing at first. You know…Dad's iron fist." I laughed at myself, "The both of us were too scared to even bring it up to Dad."

Sam chuckled, looking at his lap for a moment, "So, when did you guys make it _official_?" He asked.

I took another bite of my burger and chewed thoughtfully. Swallowing it down, I sucked down another drink of pop, "Um…I think it was an _official_ thing, as you like to call it, when it was my twenty first?" Sam's eyes widened.

"I never knew it," He said quietly.

I smirked, "That's because we had to have it on the down-low, Sammy," I crossed my legs, folding down the wrapper again, "Dad must've caught us in bed together one night and when I got up, I noticed that he was back…" I smiled softly, "I thought he was going to kick the both of our asses, but he didn't. He was outside, drinking a _Bud,_" Sam looked at me, stunned, "Trust me, I had the same look too." We both shared a laugh, "He just told me not to let anything get in the way, to keep a level-head, and that was the extent of it."

"Wow." Sam commented. I nodded, taking the last bite of my burger and threw the wrapper into a garbage bin along with the empty can.

"Story aside," I began, "You know what to do. Get to Breckenridge, salt and burn the bitch's bones," I swung a leg over the side of the motorcycle, "I'm gonna get Dean, and we'll be there in a jiffy."

Sam nodded, "Okay."

"Sammy, whatever you do," I said, "Be careful."

He nodded once more, "I will."

"Good," I replied, "Meet you there." Sam started the Impala, pulling out on the pavement and left. I glanced up at the name of the road that we were on and pulled out a cellphone, dialing 9-1-1.

A few rings, then a voice answered, "_911, what is your emergency_?"

_Eye of the Tiger_, I chanted in my mind, "I-I need help! Someone's been shot!" I cried out frantically.

"_Okay, hold on, ma'am_," the operator instructed, "_Where is your location_?"

"Whiteford Road," I answered, "Please hurry." With that, I hung up, tossing the phone into a storm drain. Situating myself on the motorcycle, I held the clutch in and started the engine as it roared to life. I smiled to myself as I pulled out from where I was sitting and made my way into Jericho once again.

Rounding a corner, I caught sight of Dean slinking out of the police station, obviously speaking to Sam on the phone. I grinned catching part of his conversation, "Fake 911 phone call? Sammy, I don't know, that's pretty illegal."

I coasted to where he stood with a grin, "I heard you needed a ride."

Dean blinked, giving me a look of approval and threw me his trademark grin, "Yes, ma'am." I smiled, tossing him the second helmet, he caught it single-handed while still talking on the phone with Sam, "Listen, we gotta talk." He frowned at his brother, "Sammy, would you just shut up for a second?"

My brows rose, _Something's wrong._

"Well, that's what I'm trying to tell you. He's gone. Dad left Jericho." Dean replied, answering the question that sat in my mind. I frowned at him as he glanced up at me, "I've got his journal."

I shook my head, "He doesn't go anywhere without it."

"Yeah, well, he did this time." Dean said. He paused listening to Sam for a moment, "Ah, the same old ex-Marine crap, when he wants to let us know where he's going."

"Coordinates?" I answered receiving a nod from him in confirmation.

"I'm not sure yet," Dean answered Sam. I watched his face scrunch into a look of concern, "Sam?" he asked, "Sam!" Hanging up the phone, he looked at me, "Something's happened."

Instantly, Dean and I donned our helmets as he climbed on the back, taking the shotgun that I had provided. Starting the engine, it roared to life once more as I peeled out from the station, speeding through stop signs until we were out of city limits, heading towards where Sam had went. It felt like time was going by slowly as I found myself tearing down the road with Dean sitting on the back at almost a hundred miles per hour.

_Breckenridge_

The road to Breckenridge was utterly dark, given the light from the moon helped us with a visual. Seeing the abandoned house at a distance, the tail lights of the Impala instantly gave us Sam's location. Ditching the bike a ways back, Dean tossed me the shotgun as we headed to Sam. Approaching the back of the Impala, I heard Sam speaking to someone.

"_You can't kill me. I'm not unfaithful. I've never been_!" I heard him say, then yelled out in pain. Adrenaline shot through my veins the moment I rounded the driver's side seeing the ghost bitch sitting on Sam's lap; her hand in his chest. I wasted no time, pumping a round into the chamber and shot. The glass shattered upon impact. I fired again, earning a screech and a glare from Constance before disappearing. I looked around searching for the apparition, Constance suddenly reappearing in front of me causing me to readjust my aim and fired again. As she disappeared, Sam sat up and started the car.

"I'm taking you home," He growled out, earning a look of bewilderment from Dean. I could've laughed my ass off due to the look on his face as Sam peeled the tires to his car, ramming it into the side of the house. Dean and I ran into the wreckage without a second thought, Dean taking the passenger side of the car, while I looked out for Constance.

"Sam! _Sam_!" Dean called out, "You okay?"

Sam nodded, grimacing in pain, "I think…"

"Can you move?" I called out.

He nodded, "Yeah," he looked to Dean, "Help me?" Dean leaned through the window, getting Sam out of the seatbelt. My eyes flickered to Constance's direction as she reappeared; picking up a large photograph. I readied the shotgun, "There you go." I heard Dean say as he helped Sam out of the car, slamming the door. Constance looked up at us with a glare of rage, throwing the picture down; glass shattering. A bureau suddenly scooted towards the two men as a dresser slammed into my side, knocking the wind out of me and the weapon from my hands.

"Abigail!" Dean shouted as I struggled to breathe against the pressure from the dresser. I waved my hand dismissively when the lights of the abandoned home flickered. Constance's face contorted from anger to fear as she looked around wildly when the sound of rushing water became clear. Soon it poured down the staircase. We all watched as the ghastly woman walked over, a young boy and girl standing at the top of the stairs waiting for them. Their arms rose.

"You've come home to us, mommy." They said in chorus. Constance's eyes widened, distraught. The two children reappeared behind her, embracing her tightly as she screamed, her image flickering. The lights in the house surged brightly as the trio of ghosts melted into the floor in a puddle of water, screams echoing but soon died. The weight of the dresser against me lessened as I pushed it away, breathing deeply. Dean and Sam helped me from where I was at, as we approached the spot where they vanished.

Dean wrapped a protective arm around me while I stared, almost in sadness at the spot, "So this is where she drowned her kids," I said softly as Sam nodded.

"That's why she could never go home," Sam replied, "She was too scared to face them."

"You found her weak spot," Dean said impressed, "Nice work, Sammy." With that, he slapped Sam on the chest where Constance had a hold of him before he walked away. Sam laughed through the pain.

"Yeah, I wish I could say the same for you." Sam replied before looking at me, "What were you thinking shooting Casper in the face, you freak?"

"Hey!" I chided playfully, nudging him with a grin, "Saved your ass! If it wasn't for me, Constance the bitchy ghost woulda ganked ya!"

Dean leaned down to look at the car, "I'll tell you another thing. If you screwed up my car?" He twisted around looking at his brother, "I'll kill you."

I couldn't help but laugh along with Sam, granted my ribs hurt from the dresser. I looked at Dean, my laughter subsiding quickly upon the look that told me we were going to have words about my shooting out the car's window. I smiled sheepishly, throwing him an apologetic look. I mean, he acted like it was the first time I've shot it out before!

_Down the Highway_

I sat in the back of the Impala with Dean's jacket wrapped around me in a moment of comfort and content. AC/DC's _Highway to Hell_ played over the speakers as I closed my eyes, breathing in the scent of the leather, Dean's cologne, and his scent. It has always made me calm down. In truth, my body ached like no other. I felt so fatigued that I was utterly surprised I was even awake still, but instead, I watched Sam looking for the coordinates with a rule, having a flashlight tucked between his chin and shoulder.

"Okay, here's where Dad went," Sam informed us. I leaned up to look over his shoulder, seeing a circle on the map, "It's called Blackwater Ridge, Colorado."

Dean nodded from beside me, "Sounds charming," he said, "How far?"

"About six hundred miles." Sam replied.

"Hey, if we shag ass we could make it by morning," He said smiling at Sam.

Sam glanced at his brother with a look of hesitation, "Dean," he began, "I, um…"

Dean quickly glanced at the road, then back to Sam, "You're not going," he stated quietly.

"The interview's in like, ten hours. I gotta be there." Sam replied, almost guiltily. Reclining back in the seat, I glanced to see Dean nodding and returning his attention to the road. I knew he was disappointed, I was myself. I knew that I shouldn't be though because of Sam wanting to do something with his life.

"Yeah. Yeah, whatever." He glanced at Sam once more, "I'll take you home."

With a sigh, Sam turned off the flashlight, leaving us in silence and in darkness. Let it not be known that I sat in the backseat, legs curled up to my chest, and wrapped tightly in Dean's jacket whilst tears were silently falling down onto my torn shirt. This was a great run with Sam. It had reminded me of when we were younger, when all of us were a team.

I blinked furiously. There I was getting ready to lose my little brother all over again, though with no yelling or cursing or threatening to be kicked out. I sat there in silence for the rest of the ride, and somewhere in between a gas station and a farm, I had fallen asleep.

_I found myself standing amongst the ruin of an abandoned town. Everything in that town was rundown, aged from the elements and time, and…dead. Roofs caved in a few houses, walls torn down in another, sometimes there were just foundations left behind. _

_"Dean?" I called out, "Sammy!"_

_Walking amongst it, I got incredibly antsy; almost nauseous. Reaching to my waist for my Smith and Wesson, I came to realize that I was without it. My heart sank into my stomach as a knot formed, gripping it tight as I ventured further into the ruins. I couldn't help but look every which way due to the feeling that I was being watched by some unseen element. I felt my blood run cold, chilling me to the bone—perhaps into my very soul. _

_"Dean? Sam?" I called out again getting nervous by the second, "Where are you guys?!"_

_I stopped. Listening to my surroundings. Except, there were no sounds. No bird, no wind, nothing. Out of a building, I saw a billowing black cloud rush me. It hit me with a force so strong, I saw a white light and dots obscuring my vision as it rounded back. Rolling out of the way, gasping for air, I got to my feet. The smoke was familiar. I knew what it was. I looked behind me and got knocked to the ground again, tumbling until a man appeared; his foot on my chest and peering down at me with a malicious smile and yellow eyes._

_I felt my body go rigid upon seeing his face, feeling the blood drain out of mine. The man's visage dissipated quickly into a beast so terrifying, the will to scream was futile._

_"My, my, my." The demon said, "What a pleasant surprise, I was expecting Samuel, but, you're a _fine_ specimen."_

_"What—What do you want?" I spat out, "What do you want with Sam?"_

_The demon chuckled, "Child, I don't want to harm you," he paused in thought, "I just want to speak to you, you know, converse?"_

_I snarled up my lip in disgust, "I don't fool with the likes of _you_." I seethed out venomously._

_"You see," he said, "you don't have a choice." Bending down, he grabbed me by the throat, lifting me in the air, "What I have in store for little Sammy will be a treat," He grinned, "And you can't do anything about it."_

_I struggled against his grasp, "Dean!" I choked out, "Sam!"_

_"Aw, now, quit struggling." The demon said soothingly, "No one can hear you in your mind. This is all a dream…or, is it?" I gasped out for another take of air, clawing at his hands, "I should just take you out while I have the chance," the demon contemplated with a low growl, his grip tightening on my throat, "You see, you have the power alone to ruin my plans for little Sammy and all of my children."_

_My eyes widen, _what the hell was he talking about?

_"I'm talking about a master race of children that I have hand-picked myself." The demon answered, reading my thoughts, "How the likes of _you_ managed to weasel yourself into my plans is beyond me, but hear this child, if you so happen to interfere," He brought me closer to him till we were nose to nose, "I will see to it that you were never born."_

I jerked awake, breathing heavily. I looked around seeing that I was in the back of the Impala still. My body shook with a force that could probably outdo any earthquake to scale. Dean was driving listening to the radio while Sam was asleep against the window. I ran a shaky hand through my hair, tears rushing forth. I covered my mouth to prevent myself from eliciting a sob. Dean happened to look up at the sudden movement from me, frowning.

"You alright?" he asked.I nodded my head, saying nothing.

_Should I tell him?_ I asked myself, seeing the concern in his eyes.

"You had another dream." He stated, "You wanna talk about it?"

I shook my head, tears beginning to trickle down my face. I wanted so badly to crawl up front and wrap myself around Dean and Sam both. Especially Sam after this one. Dean frowned at my response.

"You want to climb up here?" He asked and I wasted no time climbing into the front seat, startling Sam awake in the process, and wrapped my arms around his neck. Sam's eyes widened, looking to Dean for a reason as to why I had clung myself to him instead of Dean. I think right then and there Dean realized that the dream I had, involved Sam in some way.

Pulling up in front of the apartment, Sam got out, leaning over to look through the window at Dean, who was still frowning.

"Call me if you guys find him?" He said, looking at the both of us. Dean nodded, as well as I, "And maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?"

Dean looked to his brother, "Yeah, alright."

I watched fearfully as Sam patted the door twice, "Take care, Abigail." He stepped back, turning away.

Dean leaned over me to peer out of the passenger door, "Sam?" he called out to him, and Sam turned looking at us curiously, "You know, the three of us made a hell of a team back there."

Sam nodded, "Yeah."

He straightened up in his seat, driving off and leaving Sam behind. Down the road, Dean and I sat in silence.

"You mind telling me what your dream was about?" he said.

I looked at him hesitantly remembering the demons words, "Dean, this was too real to be a dream." I started as tears pricked my eyes once again as Dean wrapped an arm around my shoulders, bringing me close to him.

"It seems they're getting worse and worse," he murmured.

"It involved Sam," I said, shaking my head, "He said he was going to do something to Sam."

Dean turned his head to look at me with concern, "Abs, _who_ said he was gonna do something to Sam?"

I shook my head, "I don't know, a demon did." Around that time, Dean had glanced at his watch. It had stopped ticking.

He looked at me, "Hold on." He ordered, then grabbed the wheel, jerking it sharply making a U-turn in the middle of the road, the engine roaring to life as we gained speed back to Sam's apartment. By the time we had made it back, I saw the glow of a fire on his floor and I grabbed the handle to the door. Dean's hand gripped mine suddenly and I looked at him.

"Stay," he ordered as he jumped out of the car, running into the apartment. I watched in terror as my dream unfolded before my eyes, shortly after, Dean and Sam came out. I heard him yelling for Jess as they came closer, stepping out of the vehicle, I approached them, wrapping my arms around my brothers tightly as I have done before. My heart was shattered for Sam.

"It's going to be okay, Sammy," I told him, wincing from how badly my voice cracked. I looked up to Dean as he gazed at me quietly.

An hour had drug by as loads of fire fighters, police, and medics had arrived at the scene. Leaning against the side of the Impala, arms folded across my chest, I watched everything behind me. Dean stood a little ways watching as well before turning back towards us. The sound of rounds being loaded into a shotgun made it evident that Sam was out for revenge. I turned my head, meeting Sam's eyes and saw a resolute look in them. His mouth was formed into a tight line, an unimaginable fury residing underneath. It spiked a chill of uneasiness through me as I watched.

Dean glanced between Sam and the trunk quietly as Sam then glanced at him, then to me, and then at the trunk before letting out a sigh, setting down the shotgun and closing the trunk.

"We have work to do." He stated coldly.


	4. Crater Lake

**Hello everyone! This is chapter two! And holy cow! I am ****_amazed_**** at how many reviews I have on just two chapters! I'm so stunned and happy to see that everyone is enjoying this! This chapter is super short (like three pages), but I figured I'd make a small flashback as to the early parts of Dean and Abigail's relationship. It takes place six months after John's consent (I'll work on the very beginning soon). **

**If there are any typos, mistakes, ****_anything_**** let me know! I'll address it as soon as possible! I'm hoping that I have Dean in character, so if I don't, let me know!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Supernatural (Abigail, the flashbacks, anything non-canon is most likely from my noggin!)**

**Enjoy! (:**

* * *

_Four Years Ago…_

_Six months after John's consent_

_Crater Lake National Park_

_Crater Lake, Oregon_

Sunlight pierced through the curtains as tangled sheets entwined Dean and I's legs. Being the first to wake up, I found myself nestled in his arms, my head lying on his right shoulder. The faint musky scent of sex lingered when I moved around in the bed, careful of not waking Dean when I sat up, rubbing my eyes with the heels of my palms and drew my knees up to my chest. Blinking, I looked around the room to see that our clothes were strewn all over the floor from last night's events bringing a soft smile to my lips.

It had been the first time in almost five months since John had given me and Dean his consent to be together. Even then it just seemed like John had kept a closer eye on the two of us and ensured to keep us busy while keeping it secret from Sam. Dean and I both kept it on the down-low, in which we were also careful not to overstep our boundaries while on the job. Thankfully we finally caught a break from him; a job up in Oregon to settle a werewolf problem. It had taken us a few days to finish it, though in the midst of the job, Dean had told John that it would take us a week and a half, the half part ensuring that the werewolf didn't have any buddies around when we both knew there weren't any more. I was surprised that John even fell for it seeing how Dean was a horrible liar and couldn't keep anything from his father.

Managing to capture the soft laugh in my throat from the memory from just a couple of days ago, I looked down at Dean's sleeping form softly. He had turned onto his side already, right arm extended in search of me. I scooted to where his fingertips brushed against my leg lightly sending chills up my spine. Lying back down, I scooted even closer to him feeling the warmth of his body as one of his arms pulled me closer. I smiled placing an arm around his waist and dragged my fingers along the line of his back. Dean shivered before cracking a tired eye.

"Hey you," he said tiredly, bringing up a hand to rub his eyes.

I smiled at him, "Hey you."

Dean sat up, placing his weight on his elbow before placing a lazy, yet delicate kiss on my lips. As he pulled away, he leaned his forehead against mine staring into my eyes. Staring back into those luminous hazel-green orbs, I ran my hand down his chest feeling his necklace under my touch before Dean took my hand in his, "You sleep good?" he asked as a smug smile creeped onto his face.

I laughed softly, and nodded against his forehead, "Yeah, 'bout the best I've had in months."

He pulled away from me with a grin, those beautiful eyes of his glimmering in the sunlight, "_Good_, I've been thinking," he began, sitting up, "If Dad still thinks we're on the hunt for more freaks of nature, figured we'd go out and see the sights, since you know," he said shrugging his shoulder slightly, "Crater Lake is a big hole in the ground filled with a lot of water." His gaze went from my face down to my bare chest, licking his lips, "Or we could just stay here and enjoy ourselves for a little while longer." I laughed upon seeing the suggestive waggle of his eyebrows after a cheeky grin had surfaced. Pursing my lips with a look of mock-deep thought, I gently placed my hand on his left shoulder pushing him back onto the bed. He grinned up at me when I straddled his lap, leaned down to where our noses touched feeling his hands rest on my hips. I smirked, grabbing his hands and brought them over his head.

Dean's grin widened more, "You know it makes me all frisky when you take charge like that, sugar-pie."

With a smile, I pecked him on the lips, "Anytime babe," I sat up, leaving his hands above his head and patted his chest, "But we're getting out of this cabin," I watched in amusement as his face went from his smug grin to shock when I stood up throwing him a devilish grin, "Come on."

"That's not right, Abs!" he groaned out, "That's-that's like," he shook his head sitting up, "I can't even think of anything right now!" Dean pointed a finger at me with a frown, "But, that's wrong."

I grinned at him as I pulled on a fresh pair of underwear, then stepped into my jeans, "I'll make up for it tonight, 'kay?" Dean's frown continued. With a small laugh, I walked towards him, still bare-chested and straddled his lap once again, pooching out my bottom lip as I peered up at him in my 'puppy dog eye' impression.

Dean arched a brow as I rested my elbows on the tops of his shoulders, pressing my chest against his. He smirked, "On one condition," he stated.

I smiled, "What?"

"You get pie." He deadpanned as I laughed at him, and nodded.

"Deal." I replied kissing him softly. Dean's tongue ran the length of my lips before delving in to meet my tongue. Feeling his hands cup the back of my head, he deepened the kiss until I felt that oh-so familiar ball of tension in my lower stomach. A soft mewl emitted from within my throat as our breathing became punctuated in short, soft bursts whenever we broke to get air. Looking into his eyes for the miniscule second that we were parted, I saw that lust-filled glint swirling within as he crashed his lips on mine once more.

Before I knew it, I was back in the bed with my jeans undone as our kiss evolved into something more primal. With every nip Dean's teeth made against my neck, another mewl would make its way out from my mouth. Feeling his calloused hand on my breast, I squirmed with every delicious squeeze, pinch, and flick his fingers were able to do. It was mind-blowing how someone could change my mind so quickly about going outside to see the sights, back into bed for a more intimate time.

Looking up at Dean through half-lidded eyes, my breathing becoming sporadic, and my nerves going hay-wire, I realized that Dean was grinning devilishly at me, "Two can play at that game, Cherry-pie." He stated, sitting up with an erection in tow, and rolled off the bed with a smirk. I sat up on the bed wide-eyed as he pulled on his boxer-briefs, then pulled on his jeans before turning to look at me, "Well? We're wasting daylight, princess."

I rolled my eyes at him, "Yeah, yeah, I get it." I said, getting off the bed and retrieved my bra. Getting it on, then my Johnny Cash shirt, I flipped my hair over and wadded it on top of my head in a half-assed bun. Seeing him lacing up his boots, Dean looked up at me and winked causing me to instantly grin like an idiot. What could I say? Whatever I felt in my heart, I sure as hell hoped he felt the same way, because I knew for a fact that I was afraid to tell him, _Dean Winchester_, everything that I knew and wanted to say in my heart.

Just then, Dean's cellphone rang. I arched a brow at him when he shrugged at me, then flipped it open, "Yeah," he said. A frown took place quickly and he nodded, "Yeah, we'll be there." With an annoyed look, Dean closed the phone and shoved it back into his pocket.

"Let me guess, Dad." I stated dryly.

Dean nodded, "You guessed right, wants to meet us in Iowa before taking on a job in Michigan. Something about a Wendigo."

Pursing my lips in an attempt to mask my disappointment, I glanced out the barely open window, "I reckon." I walked to the nightstand picking up my pack of cigarettes and shoved them in my pocket with my cellphone.

"Hey," I heard him say from behind me, "Maybe next time, alright?"

I looked over my shoulder at Dean and nodded slowly, "Yeah, maybe." Hearing a sigh come from him, the sound of his boots scraping against the hardwood floors thumped as he approached me and placed a gentle hand on my face. Looking up at him, I could see the conflict in his eyes, knowing that he too wanted to be able to spend what alone time we had together and I knew deep down, duty came before anything else. Play time was over, we were officially back on the clock.

"The wondrous life of a hunter," I muttered earning an amused chuckle from Dean.

"The best," he replied, wrapping his arms around me and pulled me into his muscular frame, "I'm sure if we were a little bit late, Dad wouldn't want to kill us all that much." He added, peering down at me with a smirk. I looked up at him in almost shock, "Come on, let's go look at that large hole filled with water."


	5. Wendigo

**Hello everyone! Chapter four is up, and I can't say how amazed I am at the reviews still! Goodness! I can't tell you all how much I appreciate reading them! Ya'll are great! Thank you! **

**I am still looking for a Beta Reader/editor/volunteer who wouldn't mind looking through everything to ensure that there are no mistakes, perhaps help out and give ideas for future chapters, etc. So, if any of you are interested, or know of anyone, please spread the word or just PM me!**

**Also, I have a question. Smut. Yea, or nay in a future chapter? If so, how soon, and if not, how far into this would you want to read it? I want everyone to be able to enjoy this story as much as I do writing it. Leave me stuff in the reviews, even suggestions and whatnot! I'm all ears! I want to hear your opinions! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Supernatural franchise, however, I do own Abigail, any future non-canon characters, and non-canon stories (aka, flashbacks, or filler chapters)**

**Enjoy! (:**

* * *

_November 10__th__, 2005_

It had been eight days since the death of Sam's girlfriend, Jessica. Eight days since that terrible dream, and I haven't slept well since then. What the demon had told me, frightened me to sleep, afraid to see the yellow-eyed beast again if I was to fall into a slumber. Dean and I hadn't talked much either.

We all sat in the Impala in a dead silence, except for Foreigner's _Hot Blooded_ playing across the stereo. Dean and I were the only ones awake. Sam sat in the back, arms crossed and snoring softly in his moment of calm. Since Jessica's death, Sam had been a stewing vessel of a quiet rage that had only time to allow itself fester more and more he dwelled on it. And _that_ was often.

I had tried to cheer him up, much as he had done when I had lost my family. I tried in vain, only to receive the cold shoulder from both of them.

_What was I supposed to do?!_ I was wore down to the bone from the countless hours of no sleep. I sat there wondering how I was even functioning.

"You okay?" Dean asked, throwing me a casual glance. I looked at him a little stunned that he was talking to me again.

Nodding, I pushed a strand of hair behind my ear, "Peachy."

Dean rolled his eyes in a disbelieving manner, "Yeah right, Abs."

I frowned at him, "Really, Dean, I'm okay."

He pursed his lips, not replying to me, resting his arm on the window with his other hand on the steering wheel. I looked down into my lap where Dean's jacket laid from the previous night as a makeshift blanket. _So it was going to be like this,_ I thought to myself bitterly. Up and down again, just like when we were in our teens.

The sound of jerking caught my attention. I twisted in my seat to see that Sam had awoke. _So, he isn't sleeping well either,_ I thought to myself as he blinked a few times, pinching the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb,before he rubbed his eyes.

"Hey. You alright?" I asked softly, as Dean looked over at me, then glanced up in the rearview mirror in concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He muttered in bitterness, turning his head away from me to gaze out the window. I nodded slowly.

Once again, Sam gave me the cold shoulder.

"Another nightmare?" Dean asked only to have Sam his clear throat in an attempt for us to drop it, "You wanna drive for a while?" Sam and I looked at him with arched chuckled at his attempt to cheer him up. I smiled softly at Dean, knowing it was hard to stay upset at him.

"What?" He asked, feigning innocence.

"Dean," Sam stated, "your whole life you never _once_ asked me that."

He shrugged a response, peering at his brother through the rearview, "Just though you might want to," he replied with a smirk, "Nevermind."

"Look, guys," Sam sighed out, "you're worried about me," I felt him put a hand on my shoulder, "I get it, and thank you, but I'm perfectly okay."

I rolled my eyes in a disbelieving manner, "_Mhmm._" I was the queen of being _okay_, I knew that he was lying through his teeth. Dean knew it as well from the same eye roll. Sam leaned up, grabbing the map from between us.

"Alright, where are we?" He asked, opening it.

"We are just outside of Grand Junction," I replied as he folded down the map of Colorado, the large red X saying _35-111_ marking our newfound destination.

"You know what?" Sam said, looking up at us forlornly, "Maybe…maybe we shouldn't have left Stanford so soon."

Dean let out a sigh, "Sam, we dug around there for a week. We came up with nothing. If you wanna find the thing that killed Jessica—"

"We gotta find Dad first." Sam finished for him with an exasperated sigh.

"Dad disappearing and this thing showing up again after twenty years, it's no coincidence." Dean continued. I looked down at my lap guiltily, only to be surprised by Dean's hand taking mine. I looked up at him, "And Abs having that funky dream about it," he shook his head, "Something's going on. Dad'll have answers." Dean nodded to himself in self-reassurance, "He'll know what to do."

"It's weird, man," Sam murmured from the backseat, "These coordinates he left us, this Blackwater Ridge."

"What is it?" I inquired.

"There's nothing there," Sam replied, "It's just _woods_." He sat down the map, "Why is he sending us to the middle of nowhere?"

Still holding Dean's hand, I felt a whole lot better knowing that no one felt as if I were the reason for these happenings. I glanced outside the window as we passed a National Forest sign saying _'Welcome to Lost Creek, Colorado National Forest._'

* * *

_Ranger Station_

Running delicate fingers over the three dimensional map of the national forest, I kept my attention on a ridge that was labeled _Blackwater Ridge_ while Dean was wondering around the station looking at the decorations like an enthusiastic child.

"So Blackwater Ridge _is_ pretty remote," I murmured to Sam.

"It's cut off by these canyons here," Sam pointed out, "rough terrain, dense forest..."

"Along with abandoned silver and gold mines all over the place," I said with a smirk, and nudged him with a smile, "We might be lucky and find some. Easy money." Sam mustered up a chuckle at my joke. My smile widened, _Making progress!_

"Guys, check out the size of this freaking bear!" Dean stated in awe. Sam and I turned from the map to walk over to where Dean stood staring at a framed photo of a man standing behind a behemoth of a bear. I let out a low whistle.

"And a dozen or more grizzlies in the area," I stated with a smirk.

Sam nodded, "It's no nature hike, that's for sure."

Dean broke eye contact with the photo and looked at me with a grin, "Yeah, at least we have Grizzly Adams here in case we run into some of them," he joked. I rolled my eyes and folded my arms, only to giggle when Dean wrapped an arm around my shoulder, bringing me into an embrace as he planted a sloppy kiss on my forehead.

"You three aren't planning on going out near Blackwater Ridge by any chance?" said a voice from behind us. We whipped around startled to see anolder ranger by the name of _Wilkinson_ standing with a concerned look on his face.

"Oh, no, sir," Sam began to throw Wilkinson off, "we're environmental study majors from UC Boulder, just working on a paper." He laughed nervously as Dean grinned from beside me and raised his fist.

"Recycle, man." Dean chirped.

Wilkinson eyed us, "_Bull_." I stiffened in my spot, glancing to Sam and Dean, seeing that they too didn't move a muscle, "You're friends with that Haley girl, right?"

I thought for a moment, "Yes," I said earning bewildered looks from Sam and Dean, "Yes, we are, _Ranger Wilkinson_." The older man looked at us patiently; suspecting that he's seen the type of hikers that were all about the challenge of the wilderness and Mother Nature, but didn't consider their own safety.

"Well I will tell you exactly what we told her," Wilkinson said, "Her brother filled out a backcountry permit saying he wouldn't be back from Blackwater until the twenty-fourth, so it's not exactly a missing persons now, is it?" The three of us shook our heads and Wilkinson smiled, "You tell that girl to quit worrying," He continued, "I'm sure her brother's just fine."

Dean nodded, "We will. Well that Haley girl's quite a pistol, huh?"

"That is putting it mildly," Wilkinson concurred, obviously having dealt with her before.

"Actually you know what would help is if I could show her a copy of that backcountry permit," Dean spoke earning a suspicious gaze from the older ranger, "You know, so she could see her brother's return date." He added a raise of his brows, giving the ranger what he said was his 'adorable and innocent' look. I coughed into my hand to prevent myself from snorting in laughter.

Moments later, we were walking out of the station with Dean holding the permit in his hand and laughing as if he got an invitation to the Playboy Mansion.

Sam looked at him with irritation dripping off of him, "Guys, why are we even worrying about some girl?"

I looked at Sam, leaning against the passenger side of the car, folding my arms across the top, "What do you mean?"

He frowned, "The coordinates point to Blackwater Ridge, so what are we waiting for?" He snapped, "Let's just go find Dad."

"I don't know," I replied dryly, "maybe we should know what we're walking into before we actually walk into it?" Dean, standing opposite of me, tilted his head with a look that agreed with me. Sam furrowed his brows.

"What?"

"Dude, since when are you all shoot first, ask questions later, anyway?" Dean asked looking at his brother with a confusion hinting around on his face.

Sam looked at the both of us, "Since now," he muttered, opening the car door.

"Really?" I asked with an arched brow, following suit with Dean and climbed in the car. It was uncharacteristic of Sam to act like this. I mean, Dean was bad for that stuff, now Sammy? _Good lord_. One gun-ho man was tedious by itself alone, but _two_? I shook my head realizing that this kind of outlook was going to end up a bad idea.

* * *

_Collins' House_

Dean, Sam and I stood outside of the door as a girl, probably no older than twenty or twenty-one answered the door. She was a pretty girl; sporting a tight brown shirt that showed off the right things-tanned skin, shoulder-length curly brown hair, and brown eyes that held a suspicious glint in them. I smiled at her through the screen door.

"You must be Haley Collins," I spoke, hearing my drawl twang everything, "I'm Abigail." I introduced, "This is Dean and this is Sam." I motioned my hand to each of the men with my smile in place, "We're rangers with the Park Service? Ranger Wilkinson sent us over," I gave her a timid laugh, "Wanted us to ask a few question about your brother Tommy."

Haley looked at us hesitantly, then nodded her head, "Lemme see some ID."

Reaching into my pair of black skinny jeans, I pulled out my fake ID with the name of Abigail Simmons, showing it to her.

_Eye of the Tiger, Abigail_. I chanted to myself as Haley glanced from my ID back to me, to which I smiled sweetly. Pursing her lips, she opened the door, stepping aside.

"Come on in," She said.

"Thanks," Dean replied from behind me as we stepped inside.

"That yours?" Haley suddenly asked, earning a curious look from me as I turned seeing that she was motioning her head towards the Impala. Dean grinned instantly at the recognition of his car.

"Yeah," he said, smiling.

"Nice car," she complemented as she then turned, leading us into the kitchen. Dean walked past us mouthing something along the lines of _she noticed my car_! Sam rolled his eyes while I shook my head, smiling at him.

_Boys and their toys_.

"So if Tommy's not due back for a while, how do you know something's wrong?" Sam asked as Haley walked back into the room, holding a bowl of food, placing it on the table.

"He checks in every day by cell," she explained, "He emails photos, stupid little videos—" Haley shook her head, worried, "—we haven't heard anything in three days now."

I shrugged, "Maybe he can't get cell reception," I suggested to her, "I mean, it's pretty well secluded." Recalling the three-dimensional map back at the ranger station.

She shook her head, "He's got a satellite phone, too."

"Could it be he's just having fun and forgot to check in?" Dean suggested as well, I could hear the underlying symbolism in his words and swallowed the knot that sat in my throat.

"He wouldn't do that," A younger teen blurted out with an exasperated look on his face, looking away as Dean eyed him. I think we all were a bit like this boy. I was instantly brought back by the intensity of his faith in his brother, to a time of my siblings were always counting on me or awaiting my parent's arrival. The muscle in my jaw ticked from the memory.

"Our parents are gone," Haley explained, "It's just my two brothers and me," she continued, placing a comforting hand on the boys shoulder, "We all keep pretty close tabs on each other."

I nodded, knowing exactly how she felt. Dean, Sam, and I were the same way with each other back then, then for a short while, it was just Dean and I.

"Can I see the pictures he sent you?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," Haley replied as she pulled up photos, "That's Tommy." She said pointing to a smiling, attractive man sitting in the tent. My brows rose, tilting my head sideways in interest as she clicked through several photos before stopping at a video.

She clicked twice on the still frame, opening the video player.

"_Hey Haley, day six, we're still out near Blackwater Ridge_," Tommy's spoke calmly, "_We're fine, keeping safe, so don't worry, okay? Talk to you tomorrow._" Judging by the look on Sam's face, he had seen something.

"Well, we'll find your brother," Dean told Haley with a promise in his words, "We're heading out to Blackwater Ridge first thing."

"Then maybe I'll see you there. Look, I can't sit around here anymore, so I hired a guy," Haley said as she stood behind her brother, wringing her hands in agitation while I looked over to Sam with a look of nervous anticipation, "I'm heading out in the morning, and I'm gonna find Tommy myself."

Dean nodded, "I think I know how you feel," he spoke thoughtfully, looking away in avoidance of my gaze. I furrowed my brows in his proceedings of ignoring me.

"Hey, do you mind forwarding these to me?" Sam asked, glancing back down at the pictures.

_Oh, yeah, definitely saw something_, I assured myself with pursed lips.

Haley nodded at my brother, "Sure."

* * *

_Bar-Night_

I stood alongside the pool table; listening to the patrons chatting with each other. After a man by the name of Riley backed up from the table, he smirked.

"Think you can beat me?" he jeered, "You have two left."

I smirked, responding to his question by aligning the cue ball with the two ball and pocketed it with ease. I watched as the white ball narrowly missed the left hand corner pocket as it sank the seven ball. I straightened up, throwing him a cocky grin as I rounded the pool table in order to align myself with the eight ball.

I tapped the center right pocket, "I'm gonna make it there." Earning a snort in reply.

"Heh, good luck getting 'round my fourteen ball," he retorted. The grin wiped off Riley's face instantly whenever I shot the cue ball, causing it to jump over his fourteen ball, and rolled hitting the eight ball. The both of us watched with such a ferocity, that I was surprised it didn't just burst into flames. Nonetheless, it fell into the pocket just like I said it would, and I turned to the stunned man.

"Better luck next time, ole boy," I replied sweetly as I held my hand out awaiting my winnings. Riley frowned at me, digging in his pockets, and slapped a wad of cash into my hand as well as a piece of paper, "Thanks doin' business with ya," I called out with a cheeky grin and placed the money that I had won inside my bra; revealing more money that I had won from earlier games. I unfolded the paper, unveiling that he had given me his number. I laughed to myself as he walked off, his pride damaged from being beaten by a girl.

Putting the poolstick on the table, I made my way to where Dean and Sam were sitting. They always made a point to keep me within their sights in case trouble was to arise. Dean had made sure of it. I saw Sam rummaging through is bag while Dean took a drink of beer, his eyes landing on me, twinkling.

"Do any good?" Dean asked whenever I sidled next to him and picked up the untouched mug of beer. Taking a drink, I sat the glass mug down, and dug into my shirt, pulling out wads of cash, even papers with numbers written on them. Dean's brows rose at the numerous pieces of paper. I had him beat by four or five already.

"Yeah," I replied as he chuckled, planting a kiss on my temple, "I think I might've damaged some egos too." It felt good to not have to worry about much that had to do with us hunting right at the moment. The ability to have downtime felt downright amazing. The feeling of being dizzy and sick at the same time finally went away, giving me the OK to do some of the heavy lifting.

Sam straightened up, "So, Blackwater Ridge doesn't get a lot of traffic." He told us, "Local campers, mostly. But still, this past April, two hikers went missing out there. They were never found." He opened Dad's journal.

I tilted my head, "Any before that?"

"Yeah," he replied, pulling out newspaper articles, turning them towards Dean and me to look at them, "In 1982, eight different people all vanished in the same year. Authorities said it was a grizzly attack." He then pulled out his laptop, "And again in 1959 and again before that in 1936." Opening the lid to the screen, Sam twisted the computer towards us seeing that it was already open to Tommy's video, "Every twenty-three years, just like clockwork. Okay. Watch this. Here's a clincher. I downloaded that guy Tommy's video to the laptop. Check this out." He progressed the video in slow motion, my eyes quickly detecting a large shadow behind Tommy as he finished his video. I brought my hand to my chin, pulling on my bottom lip subconsciously.

"Do it again," Dean urged, focusing on video as Sam repeated the frames.

Still pulling on my bottom lip, I let it go, making an audible _pop_ against my teeth, "That's three frames, a fraction of a second…" I murmured, placing my fingers to my temples trying to do the math, raising my head and looked at Dean and Sam, "Whatever that thing is, it can move."

Dean swatted Sam from across the table causing him to look up at him, "Told you something weird was going on."

"Yeah," Sam agreed, closing his laptop and put it away, "I got one more thing."

Dean looked at him with raised brows, "What?" Sam handed over another article for us to read, "In 'fifty-nine one camper survived this supposed grizzly attack. Just a kid. Barely crawled out of the woods alive."

We scanned the Lost Creek Gazette article, a grin playing at my lips.

_Witnesses are good_. I stated to myself, _Way to go, Sammy_.

"Is there a name?" Dean asked.

* * *

_Shaw House-Night_

The old man had let us in his apartment with barely a question asked. Right off the bat, the smell of smoke hit me like a ton of bricks.I found myself eyeing the cigarette that hung loosely in his mouth. It's been three years since a cigarette graced my presence.

I used to have a minor addiction, so sue me.

The man shuffled through his house in a pair of worn out house shoes, the hardwood floor creaking as we followed him, "Look, ranger," Mr. Shaw spoke in a gravelly tone, "I don't know why you're asking me about this. It's public record. I was a kid. My parents got mauled by a—"

"Grizzly?" I interrupted him in a disbelieving tone, "That's what attacked them?"

I watched closely when Shaw took a draw from his cigarette, taking it out of his mouth and nodded slowly, two streams of smoke billowing from his nose. I gazed into his hazy eyes, seeing the familiar haunted look that I carried in mine. He was lying. It wasn't bears.

"The other people that went missing that year, those bear attacks too?" Dean stated, earning no response from the old man, "What about all the people that went missing this year? Same thing?" Again, Shaw didn't respond.

"If we knew what we are dealing with," I spoke softly in an attempt to coax the truth out of the man, "We might be able to stop it."

The old man laughed harshly at me, "I _seriously_ doubt that," he replied to me, "Anyways, I don't see what difference it would make." He sat down in his recliner, "You three wouldn't believe me," he shook his head, "Nobody ever did."

Sam sat across from the old man, "Mr. Shaw, what did you see?" He asked calmly earning a pause from him.

"Nothing," he began, "It moved too fast to see. It hid too well. I heard it, though. A roar. Like...no man or animal I ever heard." Ducking out the reminisce of his cigarette, Shaw had a look of fear in his eyes.

"It came at night?"

Mr. Shaw nodded in response, lighting up another cigarette. I watched him closely, my fingers itching to reach out and snatch it from him.

_Just one toke_, I whined, quickly shoving it out of my mind, feeling Dean's gaze on me every now and then. I blew out a short burst of air, _Eye of the Tiger, Abs._

"It came into your tent?" Sam continued as Shaw nodded once more, "And it got inside your tent?"

"It got inside our _cabin_," he said pointedly, "I was sleeping in front of the fireplace when it came in. It didn't smash a window or break the door." Shaw took a long draw as means of comfort, "It _unlocked_ it." Shaw leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees, "Do you know of a bear that could do something like that? I didn't even wake up till I heard my parents screaming."

I stood, folding my arms, "It killed them?"

"Dragged them off into the night," he said wearily with a shake of his head, the lit cigarette smoldering between his index finger and middle finger, "Why it left me alive…been asking myself that ever since." I bowed my head to the ground down at my boots, I've asked myself that same question. _Why me? Why not kill me, instead of my whole family?_ Movement from him as he reached for his collar, "Did leave me with this though," with that, he pulled down the collar of his old shirt to reveal three long, grisly scars—claw marks. My eyes never left them, "There's something evil in those woods. It was some sort of demon."

_Demon? _Not hardly_. _

_Creature? _Plausible.

"Spirits and demons don't have to unlock doors," I argued, "If they want inside, they just go through the walls."

Sam shrugged, "So it's probably something else, something corporeal."

Dean smirked, "_Corporeal?_" he asked, "Excuse me, professor."

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother, "Shut up," he looked over at me, "So what do you think?"

"The claws, the speed that it moves…" Dean shrugged before I could speak, "Could be a skin walker, maybe a black dog. Whatever we're talking about, we're talking about a creature, and it's _corporeal._" I grinned seeing how amused Dean was about using a new word, "Which means we can kill it."

The three of us bantered throughout the building, discussing the various possibilities of creatures that had claws and speed, with my reasoning bubbling down to a possibility of an ancient creature called a Wendigo. It was quickly shot down by Dean coming up with the fact that they're only in Minnesota and Michigan, bringing up another possibility as we found ourselves in the parking lot. Dean then opened the trunk of the Impala, then the arsenal, and propped it up with a shotgun. I helped him place some guns into a duffel bag as we carefully made preparation for everything that was impervious to bullets, iron, knives, and etcetera.

My best bet was still leaning on a Wendigo. For some reason, it just stuck with me in my head.

Sam leaned in, "We cannot let that Haley girl go out there."

I looked up to my brother with a snort, "Oh yeah? What are we gonna tell her?" I asked, "That she can't go out into the woods because of some big scary monster?" I continued in total sarcasm only to see Sam nod.

"Yeah." He replied, I shook my head ruefully at him.

Dean looked at him incredulously, "Her brother's missing, Sam. She's not gonna just sit this out. Now we go with her, we protect her, and we keep our eyes peeled for our fuzzy predator friend." He then picked up the-now zipped-duffel.

"Finding Dad's not enough?" Sam argued, slamming the weapons box shut, then the trunk, "Now we gotta babysit too?"

I gave Sam a hard, long stare unbelieving of how irrational he was acting.

Sam looked at me defiantly, "What?"

I lifted my hands up defensively, "_Nothing_."

Dean only shook his head and threw the bag at Sam as him and I walked off, leaving him behind.

* * *

_Forest-Day_

The next morning was a surprisingly warm and very sunny day. Not that I was expecting anything less of a cool, autumn day. I took the opportunity to sport my hair in a messy bun with a few tendrils of hair framing my face and donned a pair of aviator shades. I sported a light, army green military jacket with the sleeves rolled a fourth of the way up, black wife-beater shirt, and a pair of destroyed jeans that were utterly comfortable. My mother's rosary hung visibly from my neck, the crucifix tucked away from any possibility of it getting snagged on something and breaking. Since I knew that we were due to hike all day, I managed to snatch me a pair of comfortable hiking boots that went well with my attire.

Quietly staring out of the window, my eyes traced the rocky peaks and timberline of the Colorado wilderness. Ahead, I noticed a trio of people gathered at the beginning of the trailhead. Dean eased in behind Haley and her brother with the Impala while a new man was checking a shotgun. They were all carrying full backpacks on their backs.

I noticed Haley's body stand in a defiant stance, shaking her head at us when Dean parked the car. Getting out, I stretched a bit, bringing a leg to my bottom, then grabbed the other stretching the muscles out. It was going to be a _long_ and tiresome day, if I wasn't enough.

"You guys got room for three more?" Dean asked casually.

Haley tilted her head, "Wait, you want to come with us?" She asked.

The man stood by her gave us a quick look over, "Who are these guys?"

"Apparently this is all the park service could muster up for the search and rescue," she replied dryly as Sam and I left Dean to the back talking; we walked past everyone. I bent over on a downed, moss covered log to fix my hair back into a bun, giving the man nearby the opportunity to take a look. He stared, taking in all of my curves, his eyes resting on my backside appreciatively. Apparently Dean had caught sight of this and frowned when he turned to Dean.

"You're rangers?" He quipped, eyeing Dean's attire.

With a nod, Dean sized him up, "That's right."

Haley smirked, "And you're hiking out in biker boots and jeans?" Instantly, his macho man ruse deflated as he looked down at himself. I pursed my lips into a tight grin in order to burst out laughing. How the man was able to run around in boots like that was beyond me, but whatever floated his boat.I noticed him taking a quick look at Haley's legs in the process, smirking.

"Well, sweetheart, I don't do shorts," he retorted without missing a beat, meeting up with Sam and I. I rolled my eyes at him, doing a quick look over of what I had on me. I rolled my pant legs up past my knee, pulling out a rather large hand knife from inside my boot. Haley's brother, Ben glanced at me, eyes widening upon seeing the knife. I looked up from checking the blade seeing him staring. I smiled at him, throwing him a wink.

The man bristled at Dean's lightheartedness, "What, you think this is funny?" He turned to us, nostrils flaring, "It's dangerous back country out there. Her brother might be hurt!"

"Believe me, I know how dangerous it can be," Dean stated calmly, "We just wanna help them find their brother, that's all." Without another word, Dean led us into the forest.

Later into the day, we found ourselves deeper into the forest. Stepping over fallen logs, rocks and little holes, Roy took the lead, followed by Dean and I, Haley, Ben, and Sam bringing up the rear. I matched Roy's pace easily, Dean not far behind.

"Roy, you said you did a little hunting?" I asked, glancing at the landscape around us trying to strike up a conversation. Roy nodded, watching his footing.

"Yeah, more than a little," Roy replied, seeming interested in my question, "You?"

I pushed a strand of hair out of my face, peering at him over my aviators, "Why yeah."

"What kind have you gone after?" He asked.

I let out a thoughtful sigh, "I ain't been in _years_," I began, "When I was younger, my dad would take me in the backwoods back home and we'd go after squirrel, turkey, boar, and deer; sometimes bear if we were lucky," I grinned mischievously throwing him a wink, "A family friend took me out one year when I was _real_ little while my parents where away, killed my first deer with him. Been hooked ever since."

Roy smirked, "An experienced hunter," he stated earning a dirty look from Dean, "I like that in a woman."

My brows rose, instantly regretting having to show off.

"Uh-huh," I heard Dean butt in, "What kind of furry critters do you hunt?" He asked, putting himself between Roy and me. I threw him a look of thanks standing clear of the man.

He frowned at Dean's positioning, "Mostly buck, sometimes bear. An occasional doe, every now and then," he added with a wink my way.

_Okay, now he's getting creep,_. I concurred as Dean passed him up in his mini footrace, oblivious to where he was stepping. I opened my mouth getting ready to tell him to stop, only to be cut off by his continuation of testosterone.

"Tell me," Dean continued, "Did uh, Bambi or Yogi ever hunt you back?" Without warning, Roy grabbed Dean by the arm. Sam looked at us from the rear curiously.

Dean froze, staring at the man in the eye, "Whatcha doing, Roy?"

Not saying a word, Roy grabbed up a relatively large stick, poking the ground. A loud, metallic snap resonated throughout the group as he triggered the bear trap that laid within stepping distance of Dean. Haley gave us a look of annoyance.

"You should watch where you're stepping. _Ranger_." Roy told him in a mocking tone. Tossing down the stick in front of Dean, he sidestepped him retaking the lead.

Dean looked down at the trap for a moment before he looked up to me with a sheepish grin, "It's a bear trap."

_No shit,_ I thought with a wary look at the tripped metal trap. I threw him a small smile despite what had happened, unaware of the audience that was watching our little exchange; aka. Haley Collins.

As we pushed deeper, Haley trudged up to Dean, "You didn't pack any provisions," She stated, "You guys are carrying a duffel bag. The way you _two_ look at each other and jump to each other's safety?" She scoffed at me and Dean, "You're not rangers." Haley then grabbed Dean by the arm, "So who the hell are you?" She growled out as her brother Ben walked past the three of us. Sam looked at Dean curiously, telling him to take me with him and keep on walking. I furrowed my brows at him, only to concede, beginning to walk with Sam; only to throw a dark look toward Haley signifying if she were to start something, she'd mess up something bad. I turned my back finally going with the march.

Trudging slowly, I hung back catching snippets of their conversation, only getting, "Sam and I are brothers…"the farther I walked, the harder it was to hear. Giving up, I picked up the pace, stepping in place with Sam. I heard the crackling of a bag, piquing my interest as I turned my head seeing Dean pull out a large bag of peanut M&Ms, sticking his hand into the bags as he continued to walk.

"And you said I didn't pack provisions!" I heard him call out waving the bag at her. I couldn't help but smile at how resilient Dean was, hearing him catch up to me; chewing with a mouthful of candy. He looked at me with a chocolaty grin-his cheeks bulging like a chipmunk-causing me to start laughing at him.

"M&M?" He managed to ask, tilting the bag towards me. I grabbed a handful of the chocolate/peanut combos and popped a few in my mouth, chewing thoughtfully at the crunchy goodness that was candy. He then looked at Sam tilting the bag at him.

Of course, Sam denied it because he wanted to keep his girlish figure.

We had come to a rather large clearing in amongst the trees. It was pretty much barren give or take the numerous fallen logs. Roy had stopped ahead of us, gesturing for us to come around.

"This is it," he announced, "Blackwater Ridge."

Sam walked a little ways ahead of him, "What coordinates are we at?"

Roy pulled out a GPS, "Thirty-five and minus one-eleven." He responded.

I furrowed my brows as Dean and I approached Sam, "You hear that?" I asked, glancing and Sam stilled, listening. _Nothing_.

"Yeah," Sam murmured, "Not even crickets."

Roy put away his GPS, shouldering his weapon, "I'm gonna go look around."

I looked at the man like he was crazy, "You shouldn't go off by yourself," I stated.

Roy smirked at me, "That's sweet," he retorted, "Don't worry about me." He waved his gun, pushing between Sam and Dean to retake the lead.

"All right, everybody stays together. Let's go." Dean said, as we followed Roy away from the coordinates that our father had given us.

_There was nothing here. Not a thing. Zip. Nada._ I told myself, _What is Dad wanting us to do?_

That was when I felt it. That antsy feeling. Instinctively, I glanced around me warily. I knew right then and there at we were not alone.

Delving deeper into the forest, the terrain had become more challenging via rocks and boulders that were now laying around willy-nilly, making me realize that they had framed another clearing. The ground beneath our feet were cushioned with a vast bed of moss and pine needles; our footsteps barely audible except for the occasional crack of twigs that someone would step on.

The feeling I got from the first clearing never left me as it seemed to have some foreboding meaning to it. My heart started to race as we looked around our new surroundings.

"Haley! Over here!" Roy's voice called out from a distance as Haley dashed in his direction, quickly followed by the rest of us, only to stop seeing a trashed campsite.

Haley stood with her hands over her mouth, "Oh my god," she said fearfully. With a frown, I looked to Sam and Dean as they stared at the bloody, torn tents as well. Supplies had laid scattered across the ground.

Roy kneeled, "Looks like a grizzly." He deduced when Haley looked around the destroyed campsite numbly.

"Tommy?" She called out, taking off her backpack and went through the campsite, searching for her brother, "Tommy!" As fast as my legs could carry me, I had caught up with her, clapping my hand a little too hard over her mouth.

"Shh!" I said earning a glare from her.

Haley jerked my hand away from her mouth, "Tommy!" She yelled out before I forcefully brought my hand up to her mouth again.

"Will you _shut up_?" I hissed out.

"Why?" she asked rather heatedly from having my hand over her mouth.

"Cause something's still out there," I said, letting my hand fall from her mouth and wiped in on my pant leg.

"Sam!" Dean's voice called outfrom an area farther away from where I was at.

I was still looking around the campsite for any other signs of the struggle before finding myself wandering to where Dean and Sam where at. They were crouched looking at a pair of bloody slides that seemed to have vanished into thin air. I ended up catching Dean saying, "I'll tell you what, that's no skinwalker or black dog."

The pair stood up, Dean bumping into me. We exchanged a glance between each other, though just from seeing everything, I had understood the situation. I turned, heading back to camp with Dean and Sam following behind and noticed Haley pick up an object before she started crying.

Walking over to her, I saw that it was her brother's cellphone; busted and bloody. I kneeled beside her, putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder, "Hey," I said softly, "he could still be alive."

Haley gave me a look of utter disbelief.

"_Help! Help!_" A man's voice cried out from inside the dark forest around us. In no time, I was on my feet, deftly following Roy close behind to aid whoever was yelling, "_Help! Somebody!"_

We all stopped where the voice was coming from. My eyes instantly moving up to the trees. I had a terrible feeling of dread resonating throughout my body.

"It seemed like it was coming from around here, didn't it?" Haley asked, looking at everyone for a confirmation. We all fell silent, something had alerted Sam.

"Everybody back to the camp," he ordered. We ran back to see that all of our supplies were gone.

Haley gasped out, "Our packs!"

I brought my thumb up to my mouth, beginning on chewing at the skin around my nail, eyes on the trees. For whatever reason it was, I felt as if I should've looked up there, and I stared at each one for what seemed like a long while. Dean picked up on what I was doing, glancing occasionally into the trees. He walked over to me.

"You alright?" he asked, concerned.

Looking at Dean silently for a moment, I studied his face. I nodded my head and hesitated, then shook my head no, "Something's watching us." I murmured to him, glancing around the darkening forest as it slowly turned to night. Dean frowned.

"So much for my GPS and my satellite phone," Roy cursed with a look of disgust.

Haley looked to Roy, then Sam, then Dean, and finally on me, "What the hell is going on?"

"It's smart," Sam explained, "It wants to cut us off so we can't call for help."

Roy scoffed, "You mean _someone_, some _nutjob_ out there just stole all our gear?"

Sam came up to us with an irritated look, "I need to speak with you guys in private." We nodded, heading a little ways away from the rest of the group acting as if we were looking for any signs. I glanced at the group to see that they were looking at us every now and then.

When we were far enough, Sam glanced to the group as well, and nodded, "Good," he said, "Let me see Dad's journal." Opening his jacket, Dean pulled out our father's journal, handing it to Sam. As Sam opened it, he flipped through it with intense concentration until he found a particular page, "All right, check that out." He commented, pointing to a First Nations-styled drawing of a figure. My heart sank, looking up at Sam. _I was right_.

Dean looked at me, then to Sam, "Oh come on," he scoffed out in disbelief, "Wendigos are in the Minnesota woods or northern Michigan." He said, "I've never even heard of one this far west."

"Think about it, Dean," I began, "The claws, the way it can mimic a human voice," I thought for a moment, giving him a lopsided grinand I smacked his arm like he had done to Sam earlier, "I was right."

With an exasperated sigh, Dean took out his pistol staring at with narrowed eyes, "_Great_," he said dryly, "Well then, this is useless." Sam handed Dean the journal back, as I headed towards the group and stopped.

"We gotta get these people to safety," I said glancing up amongst the trees and into the shadowed shrugs of the forest, "It's nearby." Sam exchanged a glance with Dean.

"Alright, listen up, it's time to go," Sam announced, "Things have gotten...more complicated."

Haley looked between Sam and Roy in confusion, "_What_?"

Roy laughed at Sam's advice, "Kid, don't worry." He motioned his hand out into the forest, "Whatever's out there, I think I can handle it." He said dismissively, patting his gun.

"It's not me I'm worried about," Sam retorted trying to make the group believe him, "If you shoot this thing, you're just gonna make it mad. We need to leave, _now_."

Roy took a step towards my brother in a challenging manner, "One," he began, "you're talking nonsense," I furrowed my brows at him, "Two, you're in no position to give anybody orders."

"Relax," Dean chided sternly, I stood beside him, ready to punch the man in the face.

I took a step towards Sam, scoffing at the ignorant fool, "We never should have let you come out here in the first place, alright?" I spat out receiving a dirty look from Roy, "We're trying to protect you." Roy took a step towards me, _way too close_ for my comfort, trying to make me give up. Sam side-stepped him quickly to get between us.

"_You_ protect _me_?" He laughed from the other side of Sam, "Sweetheart, I was hunting these woods when your mommy was still kissing you good night."My jaw muscle ticked when I clenched my teeth.

"Yeah?" Sam challenged him coolly, "It's a damn near perfect hunter. It's smarter than you," I paused, a wicked smirk playing at the corner of my mouth that matched Sam's, "and it's gonna hunt you down and eat you alive unless we get your stupid sorry ass out of here." Roy laughed at the both of us, Dean's arm wrapped around my front, pushing me behind him as well.

"You know you're crazy, right?" Roy said, punching Sam in the chest.

"Yeah?" Sam spat out, "You ever hunt a wen—"He was cut off quickly when Dean shoved him rather hard. Sam gave him a hard look, only to receive a matching one from Dean.

"Roy!" Haley shouted.

"Chill out."

Haley stood her ground, "Stop." She said in a chastising manner, "Stop it. Everybody just stop." She motioned her hands down, "Look. Tommy might still be alive. And I'm not leaving here without him." Silence had fallen between everyone.

I took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of my nose like I had done all those years ago between the fights with John and Dean, "It's getting late," I spoke up, breaking the silence. Dean nodded in agreement, "This thing is a good hunter in the day, but an unbelievable hunter at night."

"We'll never beat it," Sam continued, "not in the dark. We need to settle in and protect ourselves."

"How?" Haley asked, looking to us for an answer.

Dean had ordered Haley and Ben to stick close to camp to find firewood while Roy made a campfire. I was crouched nearby, drawing a symbol into the ground with the knife that I had in my boot. Haley looked up from poking at the fire, "One more time, that's-?"

I looked up and over my shoulder, "Anasazi symbols. It's for protection," I explained, putting my attention to the symbol again as I finished it up, "The Wendigo can't cross over them." Roy, who was nearby, laughed. I shook my head at the ignorant fool, "Nobody likes a skeptic, _Roy_." I said dryly, ensuring that the man had heard me.

Dean was sitting next to Sam at the edge of the camp whenever I stood up to double-checked each symbol ensuring that they were correct. I nodded to myself in satisfaction turning towards the two and went over to them.

"Yeah, you're probably right," I hear Dean answer Sam, "Tell you the truth; I don't think Dad's ever been to Lost Creek." I pulled my jacket around my body tighter, rolling my sleeves down to feel warmer. Dean looked up at me when I approached them, looking over to a log no too far from him. Leaning over, he grabbed it, placing it beside him. I smiled softly at the gesture. I was exhausted, my body finally coming to the end of its ability to stay awake. The only thing that had prevented this was the feeling of the Wendigo staring at us from out in the dark forest. Dean extended his hand, taking mine as I sat down on the log.

"Then let's get these people back to town and let's hit the road," Sam urged, "Go find Dad. I mean, why are we still even here?"

"This is why," Dean said, pulling out the journal from his jacket and held it up, "This book," He began, waving it slightly, "This is Dad's single most valuable possession—everything he knows about every evil thing is in here. And he's passed it on to us." I met his hazel eyes when he looked from Sam to me, his grip on my hand tightening by just a hair, "I think he wants us to pick up where he left off. You know, saving people, hunting things. The family business."

Sam shook his head wearily, eyes red from exhaustion, "That makes no sense. Why doesn't he just—call us?" he asked, "Why doesn't he—tell us what he wants, tell us where he is?"

Dean bowed his head for a moment wondering the same thing, "I dunno," he admitted, then looked back up, "But the way I see it, Dad's giving us a job to do, and I intend to do it.

"Dean...no," Sam stated in a mere whisper, "I gotta find Dad. I gotta find Jessica's killer. It's the only thing I can think about."

Setting the journal on his lap, Dean rested his arm on his knee, "Okay, alright, Sam," he said to pacify his brother, "we'll find them, I promise."

"Sam, listen to me," I spoke softly to avoid any eavesdropping, "You've gotta prepare yourself," I closed my eyes for a moment to prevent my attention from going elsewhere, "This search could take a while, and all that anger?" I shook my head at my brother, opening my eyes to see him gazing at the ground with a frown, I reached my free hand out for him to take it. Hesitantly, Sam did and I brushed my thumb over his knuckles in a sisterly way, "You can't keep it burning over the long haul. It's gonna kill you." Dean nodded, agreeing with what I had said.

"You gotta have patience, man." Dean finished, concern glistening in his eyes for his brother. It was the same look of concern that I had once faced. Sam looked down, tossing a stick on the ground, then up at us.

"How do you guys do it?" He asked forlornly, "How does Dad do it?"

I gently squeezed his hand, while Dean looked over to Haley and Ben, "Well for one, _them_." He said, nodding in their direction. Sam looked over as well.

"I mean, I figure our family's so screwed to hell," I shrugged with a playful smirk, "maybe we can help some others. Makes things a little bit more bearable," I said quietly looking at the two siblings comforting each other.

Dean nudged Sam with a grin, "I'll tell you what else helps," he added causing Sam to look at his brother, "Killing as many evil sons of bitches as I possibly can." Sam smiled at him, my attention suddenly going to an area in the forest.

_Crack…!_ I rose to my feet, handgun in hand upon hearing, _Help me! Please!_ Dean stood up as well, his weapon readied as well, _Help!_

Sam was up shining the flashlight trying to get a visual of the creature. Haley, Ben, and Roy stood up, alarmed. Dean stared into the dark night, "He's trying to draw us out," he informed them, "Just stay cool, stay put."

Roy raised his gun with a smirk, "Inside the magic circle?"

_Help! Help me!_ The voice called out frantically. A few moments later after no one would budge, I heard the growling. My heart instantly sped up, slowly moving closer to Dean as I looked up into the trees.

Pointing his gun at the direction of the growl, Roy looked at bit stunned, "Okay, that's no grizzly."

Haley hugged her brother tightly, "It's okay," she said in a hushed tone, "You'll be alright, I promise." I saw it. The Wendigo rushed past in a blur to everyone else, but I saw the creature. Haley let out a shriek of fear.

"It's here," I announced when Roy shot into the brush where there were rustling, _twice._ The creature made a god awful wail before silence. Grinning at his victory, Roy dashed into the brush.

"I _hit _it!" He shouted off in the distance.

"Roy, no!" Dean called out for him, "Roy!" Cursing, he turned to us, "Don't move."

With wide eyes, I furrowed my brows knowing what his plans were as him and Sam dashed out to go after Roy, "Sam! Dean! Don't…!" I called after them as Haley picked up a lit stick; fire burning on the end as a weapon. If my nerves weren't shot by now, they sure as hell were in no time. Heart racing, I heard the two boys running in the forest searching for Roy.

"It's over here! It's in the tree!" I heard the idiot shouting out in glee in the distance. Sam and Dean called out for him and then…silence. It was the kind of silence that chilled me to the bone.

* * *

_The Next Morning_

After the previous night's events, _no_ sleep came to me or Dean as we sat up the night for watch. _Three nights I've been without sleep,_ I counted off in my head trying to hide the large yawn, but failed miserably. Sam and Dean came back last night empty handed after finding out that the Wendigo had killed him. Half of me felt sorry for the poor bastard, but half of me was also glad he died. One of the main reasons I liked keeping to myself and Dean, or to Sam. Civilians were touchy about the deep, dark and nasty secrets of what the world had to offer. By the time the sun had risen, everyone was on edge.

Sam was sitting against a hollowed out tree stump, reading Dad's journal subconsciously toying with the lanyard that was attached to it. He seemed extremely defeated over what had happened to Roy, but it was life. It was how we lived.

Dean and I were amongst the tents checking out the bloody claw marks whilst hearing Haley babble on. Second reason why I never fooled with civilians, they rambled on and on and _on_. I gently traced the length of the claw mark with my fingertips feeling how deep the marks where in a tree, only to bring my hand back feeling the texture of the dried blood within the gashes. I could only imagine what it would've done to a person had the tree been on.

"I don't…I mean, these types of things," Haley continued to prattle on, "they aren't supposed to be real!"

"I wish I could tell you different," Dean said, looking up from observing a slide.

She stared at Dean with a fearful look in her brown eyes, "How do we know it's not out there watching us?"

Blowing out a sigh, Dean gazed over to me, "Sam and I don't, but Abigail does." He explained, catching my attention. I looked over at him upon hearing my name being mentioned.

"What about me?" I stated.

"How do you know if that _thing_'s gonna be back?" Haley asked.

_Oh, that._ I narrowed my eyes at Dean, giving him a look that told him we'd have words about bringing up that I was a freak, "I, uh…it's complicated." I replied stiffly.

"When her Spidey senses are tingling, you'll know right away," Dean answered for her with a casual shrug, "As of right now, we're safe."

Haley looked between Dean and me, "How do you guys know about this stuff?"

I pressed my lips in a thin line, "Kinda runs in the family," I replied for Dean, straightening up upon seeing Sam walking towards us.

"Hey," He said smiling at me, I returned his smile. Haley stood up as he approached us, "So we've got half a chance in the daylight. And I for one want to kill this evil son of a bitch."

Dean nodded in agreement with his brother, "Well, hell, you know I'm in." He said with a smirk. I didn't have to say much. If there was a hunt involved, I was involved and not far behind. I was needed, or at least, I liked to think of it that way. Sam flipped through the journal to the pages telling about the Wendigo, showing it to Haley and Ben. They looked at it curiously.

"_'Wendigo'_ is a Cree Indian word," Sam began, "It means '_evil that devours_'."

I dusted the dried blood off my fingers against my pant leg, "They're hundreds of years old," I added, "Each one was once a man. Sometimes an Indian, or other times a frontiersman or a miner or hunter."

Haley stared at me for a moment in shock, "How's a _man_ turn into one of those things?" She asked as we all watched Dean pick different objects up off the ground.

"Well, it's always the same," Dean replied to Haley's question, "During some harsh winter a guy finds himself starving, cut off from supplies or help. Becomes a cannibal to survive, eating other members of his tribe or camp."

"Like the Donner Party," Ben said with a nod of understanding, I looked at him with a smirk. _This kid was smart._

"Cultures all over the world believe that eating human flesh gives a person certain abilities," Sam explained, "Speed, strength, immortality."

"If you eat enough of it," I cut in, "over years, you become this…less than human thing." I explained in a solemn, yet educated tone much like a professor or something, "You're always hungry."

Haley's eyes went from Sam to Dean, "So if that's true, how can Tommy still be alive?"

Sam, Dean, and I exchanged a hesitative glance between us, "You're not gonna like it," Dean said glancing to Sam once more, then back to Haley.

"Tell me," she urged him. I could tell that she was steeling herself for whatever Dean was going to say.

Dean took a deep breath, "More than anything, a wendigo knows how to last long winters without food. It hibernates for years at a time, but when it's awake it keeps its victims alive," He said.

"It, uh, it stores them, so it can feed whenever it wants. If your brother's alive, it's keeping him somewhere dark, hidden, and safe. We gotta track it back there." I finished, growing irritated at my hair.

Haley's brows furrowed, falling silent as she processed what Dean and I had explained to her, "And then how do we stop it?"

I pulled my hair down from what was left of the bun from yesterday, flipping it over as I wadded it up on top of my head again. I frowned at how gritty it felt. Of course, I felt gritty from yesterday's long assed hike and running like a hooligan after people. Somewhere between the first clearing and searching for that scream before learning it was the Wendigo, I ended up losing my sunglasses. _Poohocky_, I thought grimly.

"Well, guns are useless, so are knives. Basically-" He held up the can of lighter fluid, the empty beer bottle, and the white cloth he'd picked up with a smirk, "We gotta torch the sucker."

We allowed Haley and Ben to round up what they could as means of weapons. Dean led the way through the woods, Molotov cocktail in hand as Haley followed suit, then Ben, then Sam, and finally me. It was a struggle all on itself to walk any further without falling over in exhaustion. Sam lagged behind to ensure that I was able to keep up.

"You alright?" He asked.

I looked at him with a weary smile, "Ready to get this crap over with," I said stepping over a rock.

"Did you get any sleep at all, Abigail?" My brother asked. I rolled my eyes, _like he has room to talk._

"Yeah," I lied, "A couple of hours."

He arched his brow in a disbelieving manner, "No you didn't."

"Then why'd you ask?" I retorted getting a tad bit irritated.

"To see if you'd tell the truth," Sam replied, watching Dean and the others ahead of us.

I shrugged at him, "Doesn't matter," I yawned deeply.

He scoffed at me with a smile, "Yeah, it does Abigail," he said, "You haven't been sleeping well."

"Neither have you," I shot back, earning a look of shock from him, "Ask me how I know," I challenged. When he said nothing I smirked, "You hear things being up three days."

"_Three _days?" Sam stated ignoring the first part blatantly, "Abigail, how are you even functioning?"

Gazing tiredly to the bloody, claw marked trees, I laughed, "Beats the hell outta me, Sammy," I murmured, "Beats the hell outta me."

He shook his head at me wistfully, "Does Dean know?"

I shook my head, giving him a stern look, "Nope." I said, popping the _p_, "Can't go to sleep if you ain't told anyone about it, besides, you know how I am, Sam." I glanced down at the ground, "I can't sleep without waking up either screaming or crying, that kind of shit gets to you after a while. _Trust me_." I murmured to him, tears welling up in my eyes. I wiped my eyes quickly with the back of my arm, "It eats at you."

Sam looked at me, almost pained to see me in this condition. I knew he wanted to do something to help me, but I also knew that he was grasping the hidden concept of what I was saying as well.

I patted Sam on the arm gently, "Anyways," I said, taking a deep breath, "I'm fine now since I was able to talk about it." I smiled softly at him. I had picked up the pace a little until Sam had pulled me into an awkward walking, one-armed hug, feeling him plant a gentle, brotherly kiss on the top of my head. We had always been able to talk to each other, and I liked that. Sam and I were able to confide things to each other that we couldn't normally tell Dad or Dean.

* * *

_Later_

After a while, Sam had taken task as leader, gazing up at the tree line. I began to feel antsy again. _Crap_. I looked amongst the trees as well before coming to a clearing.

"Dean!" Sam called out, getting his brother's attention.

He caught up to Sam with Molotov cocktail in hand, "What is it?" The trees around us were covered in bloody claw marks with broken branches littering the forest floor everywhere.

"You know, I was thinking," Sam said, "Those claw prints, so clear and distinct." He glanced around us, "They're almost _too_ easy to follow."

I grew uneasy the longer we stood there, "Dean," I began to say in a hushed tone immediately getting both Sam and Dean's attention as I looked around, the color draining from my face when we heard growling. All of us whipped around when the sound of rustling could be heard in a nearby tree.

Standing under one, blood dripped onto Haley's shirt. Taking notice, she looked up as the true look of horror played on her face. She screamed, leaping out of the way as Roy's corpse fell out of the tree and landed where she stood in a bloody and broken heap.

I stood observing the trees for signs of the Wendigo while Dean examined Roy' body and Sam went to Haley.

"You okay?" Sam asked her, "You got it?"

Haley nodded, visibly shaken as Sam helped her on her feet.

Dean's jaw clenched, "His neck's broke."

"Guys." I said upon hearing growling again. Dean jumped to his feet, running his hands down his pant legs, quickly picking up the Molotov cocktail as he urged everyone to start running in the direction that we had originally come from.

"Okay, run, run, run, run, go, go, go!" He yelled as we all took off blindly, stumbling over rocks, branches, and whatnot. Ben fell mid-run as Sam hurried back to help him up as I ran with Dean and Haley.

The three of us stopped short, me nearly falling if it hadn't been for Dean grabbing my arm. Haley gasped out in fright as we stared at the Wendigo. I was frozen in my spot until Dean had pushed me and Haley behind him protectively.

The creature was a tall, lanky thing with a waxy pale-greenish complexion. Its red eyes bored holes into each one of us, as it assessed what to do. Its long arms carried elongated, bony fingers with razor sharpclaws that clicked together every time that it would move its fingers. Haley stood beside me, trembling in fear. I had my hand on my pistol, Dean glaring at the creature intensely.

"You uh, wouldn't happen to have that Molotov would ya?" I asked quietly.

Dean didn't take his eyes of the creature, "I dropped it." He admitted.

"_Lovely_," I said dryly. The Wendigo cocked its head in my direction, sniffing the air, "How 'bout this," I began, noticing it closing in, "I run, you take Haley and find Sam."

"Are you crazy, Abigail?" Dean snapped at me.

Haley looked at me, "You'll die!" she said in a hushed voice.

I smirked, "Eh, I had a good run."

"You're not going anywhere," Dean growled, eyes still on the Wendigo, he pushed us to back up. The Wendigo let out a snarl before rushing the three of us. Haley screamed right around the time I blacked out.

* * *

_The sun was blocked out of the sky by dark clouds as a fierce wind tore through the remains of a burned structure that I found myself in the middle of. The wind kicked up burned ashes and embers, singing my skin as I jerked my body in a different direction. Smoke rolled like a chimney in different areas. Carefully stepping over downed support beams, I managed to get a look of familiar mountains surrounding the structure. _

_Frowning, I scrambled my brain trying to remember what was so familiar until I felt something break underneath my boot. Taking a step back, I looked down to see a half burnt family portrait. A painful ache tugged at my heartstrings when I realized that it was my family. Bringing a hand to my mouth, tears fell onto the broken and burnt glass. I bent down to peel the photo from the mess, straightening up to see the scruffy, long hair of my brother Mikey, the neat and smoothed out hair of my sister, Shelby, and the toothy grin of my little sister, Alyssa. Teary eyed, I saw my rough looking father and always beautiful, always smiling mother, seeing a fourteen year old version of myself in the back smiling as well._

_"It's your fault we're dead, Abigail." Shelby's voice resonated from the photo. I furrowed my brows at her image, only to reel back in shock seeing her smirking visage had changed into a severely burnt, angry girl, "You should've died."_

_"Abby, why didn't you save us?" Alyssa's voice asked, feeling a tug on my arm. I spun around to see her staring at me with a charred face, eyes yellowed from the smoke. I gasped out, stepping back._

_"He's watching you, Abigail," Mikey's voice said, "He's going to find you."_

_I looked around wildly as Mikey's burned image appeared beside Alyssa's. Tears fell in streams a choking sob ripping through my throat, "I'm so sorry, Mikey."_

_"Abigail…" I heard my father call out from a distance, "You gotta wake up now." I looked for a way to escape, "Abigail!"_

* * *

_Mine_

I jerked awake breathing heavily, pain wracking throughout my body when I tried to sit up, feeling a pair of strong hands hold me down. I swung my left arm in an attempt to punch whatever held me, connecting with another hand, "Abigail, stay down, you're hurt," Sam said quietly as I looked up at him with wide eyes, then looked around me. Dean had blood on one side of his face, a worried glint staying in his eyes when I looked at him.

"Where am I?" I asked urgently, ignoring Sam's urges to keep me down. A pained groaned managed to escape when I saw that blood and dirt was caked on my shoulder and chest with deep gashes shredding my jacket.

"Hey, hey, hey," Sam continued, "Take it easy."

I threw an exasperated glare at him, "I'm _fine_, Sammy," I reached out for him to grab my hand, "Just…" I blew out a pain sigh, "get me up?" Sam threw Dean a concerned glance as he slowly shook his head at my actions. Grabbing my hand, he helped me up to my feet. Instinctively, my hand when to my shoulder and I closed my eyes as another jab of pain tore through me.

"Tommy…" I heard Haley say suddenly. I looked, seeing the man hanging still as she began crying. She gently touched his cheek, Tommy jerking his head up as a reaction to her touch. In shock, she jumped away from him and screamed, before turning to Sam, "Cut him down!"

When Sam had cut Tommy's ropes, Haley went to him, stroking his face tenderly, "We're gonna get you home." Dean had gotten to his feet, wandering around the mine and spotted the supplies that it had stolen. He walked over to them with a grin and picked up flare guns.

"Check it out," he announced as we turned to him.

"Flare guns," Sam said with a grin.

"Those'll work." I added with a pained grin, laughing a little as Dean laughed at his find, twirling the flare guns like revolvers in a Clint Eastwood movie, "Alright, Clint Eastwood, easy now." I said earning a grin from him.

After Tommy was able to stand, Sam and Dean had taken the lead since they were armed with flare guns, I was behind them with my pistol—like it was going to do anything, while Haley and Ben were supporting Tommy as he limped. We froze upon hearing the Wendigo growling somewhere off in the mine.

"Looks like someone's home for dinner," I muttered loud enough for everyone to hear, Dean and Sam nodding in agreement.

Haley looked a little frightened, "We'll never outrun it."

Dean turned towards her, Ben, and Tommy, "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

Sam and I shared a wary glance, "Yeah…I think so?" Sam said uneasily.

Dean looked to me, placing a hand on my cheek, "Alright, listen to me. Stay with Sam," he said softly, then looked up at the three siblings, "He's gonna get you out of here." I knew better than to argue with him. He was a Winchester, as hard-headed as they come. I merely nodded, casting my eyes to the floor, only to have him tilt my chin up to make me look at him, "I mean it, Abigail. _Stay_ with Sam."

I said nothing, nodding as he gave me a quick kiss, savoring it for a moment as if it were his last. He stepped backwards, still gazing into my eyes.

"What are you gonna do?" Haley asked warily when Dean gave her a wink, before he skipped into step yelling.

"Chow time, you freaky bastard!" He yelled out, "Yeah, that's right, bring it on baby! I taste _good_!" The further down he had gone into the tunnel, the more indistinct his words were. Knowing him, he was saying words that were obscene and probably cursing its existence for harming me and for killing all those campers, plus Tommy's friend. Sam waited until Dean was a safe distance away.

He turned towards us, touching my arm. I nodded signaling that I was ready to move, "Alright, come on," he said with urgency, "Hurry!" The Collins' followed Sam and I closely as we made our way down the mine shaft.

Further down, Sam had told me to watch the siblings as he went up the tunnel, flare gun raised as he scouted for a clearance. Turning his head my way, he waved his arm, motioning that it was alright to come on. With a nod, I motioned my head to them as we followed closely behind him.

Growling came from in front of us as we made it at the end of the tunnel. Sam brought up the flare gun once, putting it down unsure and turned towards me.

"Abigail, get them outta here," he said. My heart sank a little.

I shook my head, "Sam, no."

He pushed me forward as Haley and Ben helped Tommy in front of us, "Go! Go! Go!"

Ben reached out to grab my arm, "Come on, Abigail!" I hesitated, looking at my brother with worry evident. He gave me a quick hug on my good side and nodded.

_Eye of the Tiger, Abigail_, I chanted in my head as I took a deep breath, taking in the musty old mine smell and caught up to the three siblings, gun ready.

There were more growling ahead, making them pause, before a hiss resonated close by. Sam turned coming face to face with the Wendigo. He fired the flare gun at the creature, blinded by the flare from being acclimated to the darkness of the abandoned mine.

Blinded, I had lost sight of the Wendigo, "Sam!" I called out, looking into the illuminated tunnel, seeing Sam catching up to us.

"Come on," he said, "hurry, hurry, hurry." Sam helped with Tommy as we all began to spring to the end of the tunnel. I looked over my shoulder to see the creature gaining on us with a snarl. Sam stopped, "Get behind me," he instructed, putting his body between the Collins' siblings and the Wendigo. I stood beside him as well, pistol aimed and ready.

The Wendigo had stopped a little ways from us knowing that we were had. My breathing palpitated in short bursts, heart hammering in my chest like John Henry on a railroad. Feeling blood ooze down my side, back, and chest, I realized my jacket had peeled away from the gashes; opening the wound again. As it approached, I murmured a silent prayer, then saw Dean approach from behind it, bringing a finger to his lips.

He raised the flare gun, "Hey!"

Instantly, the Wendigo turned as the flare embedded itself into its stomach. With a screech, the ancient creature had erupted into flames like a match. Dean blew the end of the flare gun like a cowboy, smirking, "Not bad, huh?" he asked walking up to us. Sam and I grinned at him.

* * *

_Ranger Station—Night_

I watched from the back of an ambulance as a paramedic addressed the large gashes. Dean and Sam wanted me to go to the hospital, though I refused both them and the paramedic, telling them to just slap a Band-Aid on them. Sam was standing behind Ben while two officers interviewed him.

"And the bear came back again after you yelled at it?" The officer asked.

Ben nodded, "That's when it circled the campsite," he replied, "I mean, this grizzly must have weight eight hundred, nine hundred pounds!" The officer glanced to Sam, who nodded in agreement. I smiled softly, wincing when the smell of alcohol stung my nose.

I watched the officer nod, "Alright, we'll go after it first thing."

Dean walked up to me, already been seen to by the paramedics and leaned against the door, "How're you doing?"

I lifted my good shoulder in a half-assed shrug, "Been better," I pursed my lips in thought, "Felt better." He chuckled softly, gazing into my eyes. I melted upon seeing his hazel eyes glimmer in the lights of the ambulance, "Dean, I promise you I'm fine."

A paramedic by the name of Jory snorted behind me, "I still think you need to go to the hospital and get a rabies shot." Dean smirked, nodding in agreement.

"Smart man," Dean said to me with a playful grin.

I gave him a sour look, eyes slanted, "I don't do hospitals-bad things happen there," I quipped, "When I start foaming at the mouth, I'll be sure to give ya a holler." Dean shook his head with another chuckle. I could imagine Jory rolling his eyes at my quip. I knew that Dean was worried about the gashes on my shoulder, but I also knew that I could handle pain pretty well.

With a soft pat on my good shoulder, I looked over to Jory, "You're good to go. If you experience any severe nausea, fever, or headaches, be sure to get to a hospital for medical attention."

Glad to go, I stood beside Dean and turned peering up at Jory, "Will do." He shook his head at me, muttering that I was insane, earning a grin from me. Dean and I walked over to the other ambulance with Tommy being loaded up.

Haley spotted us, walking over with a smile, stopping a few feet from us, "I don't know how to thank you guys," she began, earning a lascivious smile from Dean. Haley and I rolled our eyes at him.

"Must you cheapen the moment, Dean?" I asked with a smirk.

He grinned, "Must I?" He asked, wrapping an arm around my waist. We laughed a little as a paramedic walked up to Haley.

"You riding with your brother?" he asked.

Haley looked at him, "Yeah." With a nod, the paramedic turned around and headed back to the ambulance. She turned to Ben, "Let's go," she said, watching Sam and Ben nod at each other. I smiled seeing that they were newfound friends. Dean kissed me gently on the cheek before he walked over to Sam, talking about something.

Haley turned towards me with a curious grin, "You and your brother seem really close. It's actually a little weird."

I tilted my head, "Yeah…that…" I began with a laugh, "We're not really related. I lost my family in a fire and his dad took me in."

Haley nodded understandingly, "Ah, so they're family friends?"

"Ah…well, yes and no." I said sheepishly, "They're more like brothers to me…though, Dean and me…" I trailed off.

Haley smirked, "You're together…that's good, cause if you were actually related—"

"_That _would've been a little weird," I finished for her as she nodded, "You don't realize how many people think the same thing."

She laughed, "Yeah, cause I have two brothers of my own, but _geeze_…it would've been awkward. I mean, the way Dean looks at you?" Haley smiled wrapping her arm around mine in a sisterly way, "It makes people wonder."

I frowned slightly, confused, "What do you mean, the way he looks at me?"

Haley looked from me to Dean, "You really don't know do you?" I shook my head with raised eyebrows, "He hasn't taken his eyes off of you since you all showed up yesterday. The way Roy looked at you, I thought Dean was going to tear his head off," I blinked in surprise, "Dean looks at you like you're his lifeline. Like…you are the moon, sun, and stars…even the universe." She added. I tried hard not to smile, but failed, "I can't believe you haven't noticed it."

"Ah, I don't really take the time to look," I replied, "I just sort of _do_…What you said about him looking at me as if I were his lifeline…" I laughed at myself, "This is so corny, but…I feel the same way about him. I was in a rough patch after my parents died…and," I sighed, "I almost died…and Dean was the only one around at the time when I had done it, you shoulda heard the ass-chewing I received in the hospital from him. Turned me around quick." Haley smiled softly at me, and I nudged her, "I think he's a keeper."

She laughed, nodding, "Yeah," she looked at the ambulance to see Ben motioning her to hurry up, "I gotta go, but I hope you guys find your dad."

I nodded seeing him, "Same here. Good luck with everything. Need anything, call us. We'll be back in a heartbeat."

She smiled, "I'll remember that."

I nodded again, "Take care." Haley turned, climbing into the ambulance with Ben. The paramedic closed the backdoor as I made my way to the Impala where Dean and Sam were sitting on the hood watching me.

"What?" I asked.

Sam shook his head, "Nothing." My brows rose at him, "You okay? No headaches, fever?"

"No need to foam at the mouth?" Dean added with a smirk.

I frowned at them, "God, will you two shut up? I swear this is Chicago all over again." I grumbled as they chuckled. I leaned on the quarter panel, watching the lights flash on the ambulances as they pulled out; sirens blaring, "I hate camping," I said all of sudden.

"Me too," Sam replied.

"Me _three_," Dean stated. We sat in silence for a moment, "You know we're gonna find Dad, right?"

Sam nodded, "Yeah, I know." He smirked, "But in the meantime? I'm driving."

Dean glanced at me, contemplating what Sam said. I shrugged at him, _his decision._

"Alright." He replied, tossing the Impala's keys to him, "I need to spend some time with my girl, even if she has rabies and all."

I gave him a mild glare, "I _so_ don't like you two right now."

Sam grinned as we all stood up. Dean held open the back passenger door as I slid into the middle seat before he sat down, closing the door around the same time Sam did. Dean grinned from the backseat, allowing me to situate my hurt shoulder into a position that was deemed somewhat comfortable.

Starting the engine, Sam pulled out, adjusting the rear-view mirror as we left the forest and onto the open road, "Just so you guys know," I said, "If I _do_ start foaming at the mouth, I'll be sure to bite you two first, and bring you down with me." Dean looked to Sam as he glanced back at him with furrowed brows, then to me as I smirked.


	6. Dead in the Water

**Hello Everyone! I apologize for not posting anymore updates as of late. I'm getting ready to leave for Washington State to visit with my family, so my college classes are putting a bit of stress on me! Anyhoo, I went through this chapter, updated what I could, and ****_voila!_**** Chapter Five is up!**

**Also, I'm taking requests, tips, little tid-bits of whatever you'd like to see in upcoming chapters! It can be anything from quotes, scenes from movies or shows, anything! Just send me a PM or leave 'em in your reviews! **

**Also, if you see any boo-boos, shoot me a message and I'll fix it!**

**Ya'll are great!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the ****_Supernatural_**** franchise, except for Abigail and whatever non-canon plots, schemes, or scenes! (;**

* * *

_The Lynnwood Inn_

Sitting at a joining diner at the motel that we had stayed at, I found myself staring out of the large window with my chin resting on my wrist; watching an eighteen wheeler pass by. Subconsciously, I stirred around my mashed potatoes with my free hand as if I didn't want them while Dean circled an obituary in a local newspaper, chewing on the end of a pen until the waitress named Wendy came up to the table with a sweet smile.

"Can I get you anything else?" She asked running a quick look over Dean as he peered up, smiling salaciously around the pen he was chewing on. I broke away from my thoughts seeing Sam walking back to the table and sat down. I nodded at him in acknowledgment of his presence, he returned the favor, not looking at the waitress.

"Just the check, please," Sam answered curtly, earning a frown from Dean.

Her smile dropped, "Okay." She replied, throwing Sam, what I thought was a glare as she turned giving Dean another look over, and tossed him an appreciative wink. He smirked, watching her leave taking note of the short shorts that she had on before dropping his head at Sam.

I rolled my eyes at the man, _some things never change_. But I knew within the depths of my mind that Dean was ever faithful to me.

"You know, Sam, we are allowed to have fun once in a while," He stated while he straightened up, placing an arm behind my shoulder smiling, "Last night, _was fun_," I smirked, watching Sam stare at Dean wordlessly and without a doubt, unimpressed at his brother. To say the least, I'm sure that he was unimpressed at mine and Dean's late-night rendezvous in the bathroom at three o'clock this morning.

Dean's smile faded once he realized that Sam didn't find him amusing, he cleared his throat, "Here, take a look at this," he said, turning the folded up newspaper towards Sam, "I think I got one. Lake Manitoc, Wisconsin." Sam peered down at the obituary, "Last week Sophie Carlton, eighteen, walks into the lake, doesn't walk out. Authorities dragged the water," Dean shook his head, "_nothing_. Sophie Carlton is the third Lake Manitoc drowning this year. None of the other bodies were found either. They had a funeral two days ago."

I looked at Dean, confused, "A funeral?"

He nodded, "Yeah, it's weird, they buried an empty coffin. For, uh, closure or whatever."

Sam scoffed, obviously irritated, "Closure? What _closure_?"He snapped, "People don't just disappear, Dean. Other people just stop looking for them." Dean took his arm from around my shoulders and folded his hands on the table, leaning in.

"Something you want to say to me?" Dean queried.

"The trail for Dad," Sam deadpanned, "It's getting colder every day."

"Exactly," He replied, "So what are we supposed to do?"

Sam looked defeated, "I don't know," He said, "Something. _Anything_. It just seems like you and Abigail—"

I scoffed at Sam, slanting my eyes towards him, sort of thankful that Dean got to him before I could, "You know what? I'm sick of this attitude. You don't think Abigail and I wanna find Dad as much as you do?"

"Yeah, I know you do, it's just—" Sam tried to say. I shook my head at him.

"Abigail and I were the ones that's been with him every single day for the past two years, while you've been off to college going to pep rallies," Dean glared at him, those hazel eyes of his a swirling mass of rising anger. I placed a gentle hand on his thigh, giving him a squeeze to try to get him to calm down.

I looked at Sam, "We will find Dad," I reassured, "but until then, we're gonna kill everything bad between here and there. Okay?" Sam nodded at me, "So quit being so moody." He rolled his eyes as the attractive waitress passed by, capturing Dean's attention.

"Alright," he sighed out, "Lake Manitoc."

I smacked Dean's shoulder playfully to get his attention, "Hey!"

Dean looked back at me with a bewildered look, "What?"

Sam rolled his eyes once more, "How far?"

_Lake Manitoc, Wisconsin_

On the way to Wisconsin, I sat up front with Dean, my hand on his thigh while his arm was around my shoulder, running his fingers through my hair. Being lulled by his slow touch, I watched tiredly as we passed a clothesline with white sheets flapping in the wind. I fell asleep shortly after without a nightmare, waking up to see that we were crossing a bridge, passing some people fishing. Dean noticed me awake and smiled.

"Hey you," Dean murmured into my ear.

I hummed a smile, peering up at him, "Hey you," I said softly.

"You sleep alright?" He asked me as I nodded, nuzzling his neck with my nose. He tilted his head to where his neck was more exposed, allowing me to plant light kisses onto his skin, "I take that as a 'yes'." He replied huskily. I smiled into my kisses.

"Sam asleep?" I asked.

Dean looked up into the rearview mirror, "Yup."

I nodded, sitting up with a stretch, feeling the roof of the Impala with my fingertips. Dean glanced at me, eyeing the baggy long-sleeved gray shirt that I had on with a smirk, I noticed him looking and smiled.

"You like anything you see?" I asked, relaxing back into the spot that I had, placing my hand back onto his thigh.

"You know I do, cherry-pie." He said with a grin, taking notice to the sign reading '_Welcome to Lake Manitoc, WI.'_

_Carlton House_

Stepping out of the Impala, Dean, Sam, and I approached the house of William Carlton. I admired the view of the lake that was down a ways from where we stood. Wisconsin was a beautiful state. Sam and I stayed behind Dean as he stepped onto the foyer, knocking on the door.

A moment passed by, the sound of footsteps approaching the door resonated from inside as a boy answered the door.

"Will Carlton?" Dean asked.

The boy looked at Dean, then to Sam and me suspiciously, "Yeah, that's right."

"I'm Agent Ford," he introduced, "This is Agent Hamill, and Agent Sturm," he continued, motioning to Sam and I, "We're with the US Wildlife Service," he added with a smile, holding up his ID.

_Lake_

Will had taken us out to the docks where his father, Bill Carlton sat on a bench, looking out at the lake—grief stricken. Frowning, I felt as if there was more to the story behind him. Not wanting to push the boy any further, I kept quiet, fixated on the lake.

_Come play with me_, a small child-like voice whispered. I blinked in confusion, furrowing my brows out at the open water.

_What the-? _I thought to myself.

"She was about a hundred yards out," I heard Will answer, bringing me out of my thoughts, I looked over at him, "That's where she got dragged down." He said, pointing out at the open water where I had been looking.

Dean glanced out where he had pointed, "And you're sure she didn't just drown?"

Will nodded, very much sure of what he said, "Yeah. She was a varsity swimmer. She practically grew up in that lake. She was as safe out there as in her own bathtub."

I pursed my lips looking at Will, "_So,_ no splashing? No signs of distress?"

Will shook his head, "No, that's what I'm telling you."

"Did you see any shadows in the water?" Sam asked, "Maybe some dark shape breach the surface?"

Will shook his head once more, "No. Again, she was really far out there."

Dean looked at the boy, "You ever see any strange tracks by the shoreline?"

Will stared at Dean confused, "_No_, never." He replied, "Why? Why, what do you think's out there?" He asked looking out at the water.

Dean looked at the distraught boy, "We'll let you know as soon as we do," he said finishing the interview and headed to the car. Sam and I hung back, looking over to Bill Carlton.

"What about your father?" Sam asked, as Dean stopped and turned back, watching us.

"Can we talk to him?" I asked politely. Will turned to look at his father for a moment, hesitant. He turned back towards Sam and I.

"Look, if you don't mind, I mean...he didn't see anything and he's kind of been through a lot."

Sam and I nodded in understanding.

"We understand," I replied, turning to Dean as we headed back to the car.

_Police Department_

Inside the Department, we ran into Sheriff Devins himself. _Gotta love small towns_, I mused with a frown. Dean and Sam were explaining that we were looking into the Carlton drowning. From the confused look from the Sheriff, he didn't quite understand why we were there.

"Now, I'm sorry," the Sheriff began, confused, "but why does the Wildlife Service care about an accidental drowning?" He asked, leading us into his office.

"You sure it's accidental?" Sam inquired, "Will Carlton saw something grab his sister."

Sheriff Devins turned his head at Sam, "Like what?" Walking into his office, the Sheriff motioned to three empty chairs, "Here, sit, please," he offered before sitting at his desk, "There are no indigenous carnivores in that lake. There's nothing even big enough to pull down a person," He chuckled, "unless it was the Loch Ness Monster."

"Yeah," Dean laughs, "_Right_."I glanced at Dean warily.

Sheriff Devins sighed, "Will Carlton was traumatized, and sometimes the mind plays tricks. Still. We dragged that entire lake. We even ran a sonar sweep, just to be sure, and there was nothing down there."

I crossed my legs, looking attentive, "That's weird, though, I mean, that's-," I puffed out my bottom lip in thought, "-that's the third missing body this year."

Sheriff Devins sighed, nodding, "I know. These are people from my town. These are people I care about."

Dean nodded, "I know."

"Anyway..." He sighed, "All this...it won't be a problem much longer."

Dean frowned, "What do you mean?"

The sheriff blinked, "Well, the dam, of course." He responded, staring at us like we should've known better.

Realizing he messed up, Dean nodded, "Of course, the dam. It's, uh, it sprung a leak."

The sheriff nodded to his surprise, "It's falling apart, and the feds won't give us the grant to repair it, so they've opened the spillway. In another six months, there won't be much of a lake. There won't be much of a town, either," He looked at us with assessing eyes, "But as Federal Wildlife, you already knew that."

We all nodded in unison.

"Exactly," Dean said enthusiastically, nodding. A light knock on the door alerted us as a woman peeked in.

"Sorry, am I interrupting?" She asked with a tentative smile. Sam and Dean stood up, I followed example. She was a pretty woman; all legs and a brunette, "I can come back later."

"Agents, this is my daughter." Devins introduced.

Dean smiled, extending his hand, "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Dean."

Devins' daughter smiled, taking his hand, "Andrea Barr. Hi."

"This is Abigail," Dean continued to introduce, Andrea smiled at me. I returned the favor, shaking her hand, "And this is Sam." Sam nodded his head in acknowledgement."

"They're from the Wildlife Service. About the lake." Devins told his daughter.

Andrea nodded, "Oh," she replied quietly as a young boy walked in, looking sullen and quiet.

Dean noticed the boy and smiled, looking down at him, "Oh, hey there. What's your name?"

The boy looked at Dean, turning and walked back out into the main part of the office, Andrea threw us an apologetic smile before she followed him.

"His name is Lucas," Sheriff Devins spoke. The four of us watched Andrea and Lucas in the main room as she handed him a box of crayons.

I looked to the Sheriff, "Is he okay?"

Devins sighed, "My grandson's been through a lot. We all have." He stood from his desk, crossing over to his office door. I understood that it was the end of our conversation, "Well, if there's anything else I can do for you, please let me know." We nodded, leaving the office with him.

"Thanks," Dean replied, then paused, "You know, now that you mentioned it, could you point us in the direction of a reasonably priced motel?"

Andrea smiled, "Lakefront Motel. Go around the corner," she said motioning outside, "It's about two blocks south."

Dean smiled, "Two—," he feigned confusion, "would you mind showing us?"

Andrea snickered at him, "You want me to walk you two blocks?"

"Not if it's any trouble," Dean continued, throwing her a sultry pout that usually worked on just about any woman within speaking distance. Andrea laughed while I rolled my eyes at his flirty antics.

"I'm headed that way anyway," she replied, then turned towards her father, "I'll be back to pick up Lucas at three." Turning to her son, she kneeled down with a smile, "We'll go to the park, okay, sweetie?" She kissed her son on the head, straightening up. I waved to them, earning a nod from Sheriff Devins.

"Thanks again," Sam told Andrea as we walked out of the Police Department.

_Street_

Sam and I trailed behind Dean and Andrea along the street. Instantly, I knew what Dean was trying to do. I kept quiet knowing that it would jeopardize our job as _Wildlife Agents_. Sam and I watched in amusement as Dean tried in vain to _woo_ the woman.

"So," Dean began slowly, "cute kid."

Andrea glanced at him and smiled, "Thanks."

We all crossed the street in unison, I looked over to Sam.

"Ya think we couldn't look anymore dumb?" I asked in a hushed tone, hearing Sam chuckle at me.

"I'm sure if there was, Dean would've already found it," Sam replied, his lips turning up into a brief smile.

"Kids are the best, huh?" Dean continued in his attempt in his advances towards Andrea. Sam and I sniggered from behind them when Andrea merely glanced his way, ignoring him. Dean must've heard our snickering because he looked over his shoulder with an irritated look. Ahead, I looked up seeing the front of a building that clearly said _Lakefront Motel_, I nudged Sam motioning my head towards it. He nodded with a smirk.

"There it is," Andrea said with a pleasant smile, "Like I said, two blocks."

Sam and I smiled sweetly to her, "Thanks."

She nodded our way, turning her attention to Dean, "Must be hard, with your sense of direction," Andrea began, "Never being able to find your way to a decent pickup line." I grinned, having to turn around to prevent Dean from seeing that I was laughing. Sam looked down at his feet, shoulders moving in his attempt to conceal his amusement as Andrea left before saying, "Enjoy your stay!"

Dean stood in his place, stunned at what Andrea had told him. I turned, still grinning widely at him.

"_Kids are the best_?" Sam recited with a laugh, "You don't even like kids."

Dean turned to us with a sour look, "I love kids," he scoffed out in disbelief.

I rolled my eyes at him, "Name three children that ya even know." I challenged my boyfriend, folding my arms with an amused look clearly on my face. Dean looked around in deep thought, shrugging when he came up with nothing. Sam and I shook our heads, snickering as we waved our hands at him before walking into the motel.

Dean stood still, scratching his head, "I'm thinking!" he called out to us.

_Motel_

I sat cross-legged in a pair of baggy sweatpants, wrapped in one of Dean's over shirts, watching Sam work on his laptop and Dean sorting through his clothes. Slumping over, I rested my chin on my fist and yawned.

"So there's the three drowning victims this year." Sam stated.

"Any before that?" Dean asked, pulling up a pair of my underwear and grinned cheekily at me. I rolled my eyes at him, swatting his leg playfully as he put them back into the bag, scanning for his clothes.

"Uh, yeah," Sam replied, looking at the web page, clicking the built-in mouse on his laptop, "Six more spread out over the past thirty-five years, those bodies were never recovered either."

"If there's somethin' out there," I began, raising up off my fist, "it's pickin' up its pace."

Finding a shirt, Dean tossed it in my lap, "So, what, we got a lake monster on a binge?"

Sam looked up at us ruefully, "This whole lake monster theory, it, it just bugs me." Dean turned, walking over to Sam, reading over his shoulder.

"Why?" I asked.

"Loch Ness," Sam started off, "uh, Lake Champlin, there are literally _hundreds_ of eyewitness accounts, but here," he shook his head, "almost nothing." He looked through another homepage, "Whatever is out there, no one's living to talk about it."

Sam scrolled down the website, searching for something until Dean stopped him, pointing at the screen. Interested, I stood up and walked to the other side of Sam, peering over his shoulders now. Sam scrunched his face up at me, obviously not liking the attention.

"Wait, Barr," Dean spoke, "Christopher Barr…Where have I heard that name before?"

I scanned the page with Sam, "Christopher Barr, the victim in May," Sam read aloud, clicking a link that took us to a new page. An article popped up saying, _Local Man in Tragic Accident_. A photograph loaded as well showing a police officer with Andrea's son Lucas.

A light bulb clicked in my head, "Oh. Christopher Barr was Andrea's husband, Lucas's father." I said, rather excitedly, I leaned closer to read the article better, "Apparently he took Lucas out swimming."

Sam shook his head, finishing the article for me, "Lucas was on a floating wooden platform when Chris drowned. Two hours before the kid got rescued." The mouse wandered to the photograph, clicking on it, and scratched his head, "Maybe we have an eye witness after all."

Dean shook his head, "No wonder that kid was so freaked out."

I frowned, "Watchin' one of your parents die isn't somethin' ya just get over," I said quietly taking a step backwards and went to mine and Dean's bed. Sitting down, I looked up at my two brothers trying to mask the fact of how that little boy was feeling. I knew exactly how Lucas felt. Dean frowned, realizing what I said, and looked down at the ground. Sam looked at me with sympathy, unsure what to say or how to approach it. I blew out a sigh, running a now shaking hand through my hair.

"I'm…I'm gonna go, uh, put my clothes back on," I muttered, grabbing my jeans, shirt and jacket, brushing past Dean on my way to the bathroom. Closing the door, I closed my eyes tightly, sinking to the ground. My thoughts were thrown back into those horrible memories hearing my brother and sisters screaming for me. I opened my eyes, tears filling up and running down my face.

I wiped my hand down to clear myself of tears, hearing someone approach the bathroom door and knocked.

"Abs," It was Dean, "You alright?"

"Yeah," I replied, pulling my shirt over my head, "I'm alright."

Dean was quiet, "You want to let me in?"

I looked at the door, stepping out of my sweatpants, "I uh…I'm gettin' my jeans on." Stepping into them quickly, I buttoned them, wiping away more rouge tears in the process and straightened up. I opened the door, seeing him leaned up against the wall next to the door, jumping slightly. He turned around, giving me a once over.

"You were crying, weren't you?" He stated.

I glanced down at the floor, "Yeah," I whispered as a new wave of tears welled up in my eyes.

Dean sighed, pulling me into an embrace, "You can't blame yourself for what happened, Abs."

I blinked, pressing my head into his shoulder, "I know…" I inhaled sharply, feeling my body shudder in the process. Dean rested his head against mine, wrapping his arms tighter around me, "I just…I just can't help but think…" I shook my head, lip trembling, "It's my fault, Dean."

"_No_," he replied with a stern tone in his voice, "None of it's your fault. What happened," He pulled away from me, placing his hands on my face, his eyes softened upon seeing the tears rolling down my cheeks, "That was just a freak accident. You had no clue." Using his thumbs, Dean wiped them away, scanning my eyes. I saw the concern in them, "You did what you could, Abigail. Your parents would be damn proud of you for ganking the black eyed freak, I know for a fact your father was."

I smiled weakly at him, blinking away more tears, "Really?"

Dean smiled back at me with confidence, "Yeah." He looked at me, ensuring that I had gotten over my crying spell, then tipped his head down to kiss me delicately on the lips, feeling his tongue run across mine. Opening my mouth, I heard him moan softly when our tongues entwined with each other.

A few short moments passed by as we broke our kiss, staring at each other quietly. Dean's thumb rubbed my cheek before placing his hands onto my shoulders, "You okay?"

I nodded feeling better than what I was, "Yeah."

He smirked, "Good, cause I got Sammy running around looking for some more answers. Figured we'd run by the park and see if we could talk to Lucas."

_Park_

Arriving at the park, children laughed and played, running around the playground with wide grins. I smiled at a little girl, who waved at me enthusiastically, waggling my fingers in half-assed wave. Dean walked alongside me, seeing me do so and smiled, though caught sight of Andrea sitting at a bench. He nudged me in the side.

"There," Dean said, after he caught my attention. I looked over to see her as well and nodded. Approaching her, Dean and I made a considerable distance between us in order to look more professional.

"Can we join you?" I asked, catching Andrea's attention, looking up at us.

"I'm here with my son," she stated. Dean looked over to where Lucas was at.

He nodded, "Oh, mind if I say hi?" he asked, taking no time to wait for answer. Andrea turned to me.

"Tell your friend this whole Jerry Maguire thing is not gonna work on me," she said.

I sighed sitting next to her, watching Dean approach the lonely boy, "I don't think that's what this is about."

_Dean's Point of View_

I approached Lucas with a smile, "How's it going?" I asked, kneeling down beside the bench that Lucas was at, coloring. He didn't bother looking up at me as I looked down seeing toy soldiers. I grinned, picking one up, "Oh, I used to love these things." I imitated the sound of guns and explosions, tossing the toy down, and glanced up to see if Lucas would bite. He wouldn't so much as move a muscle, I nodded seeing him coloring, "So crayons is more your thing?" I grinned, "That's cool. Chicks dig artists."

I couldn't help but notice the large pile of drawings laying on the table. Leaning over, I took a peek at them, seeing one of a big black swirl, and the one underneath it, a red bicycle. Peering over my shoulder, I could see Abigail and Andrea conversing, though Andrea looked my way every now and then like a freaking hawk. Turning my attention back to Lucas, I picked up a crayon myself while picking up another pad of paper, "I'm not so bad myself," I told Lucas with confidence as I sat beside him on the bench and began scribbling, "You know, I'm thinking you can hear me, you just don't want to talk."

I looked over to him for a moment, "I don't know exactly what happened to your dad, but I know it was something real bad. I think I know how you feel. When I was your age, I saw something." I looked over to Abigail, "That babe over there with your mom? I _know_ she knows how you feel," I continued to draw on the paper, "Something real bad happened to her family as well," Lucas stayed quiet, "Anyway," I said slowly, getting off topic, "Well, maybe you don't think anyone will listen to you, or, uh...or believe you. I want you to know that I will. That my friend over there will. You don't even have to say anything. You could draw me a picture about what you saw that day, with your dad, on the lake." When Lucas still wouldn't talk, I blew out a sigh and nodded, "Okay, no problem. This is for you." I held out the picture I drew.

"It's my family," I stated, pointing out to each one, "That's my dad. That's my mom. That's my geek brother, and that's me." I glanced up at him with a soft smile, then pointed to another stick figure beside me, "And that's my girlfriend," I looked up again at Abigail, seeing her laugh, "The babe over there with your mom, that's her. Just, don't say anything to your mom, alright? That'd get me in trouble." I winked at him, knowing he wasn't going to say anything. Straightening up, I laughed at myself, "Alright, so I'm a sucky artist." I stood up, "I'll see you around, Lucas."

I headed back to Abigail, hearing Andrea tell her that Lucas hasn't spoken a word to anyone, not even her. I nodded, "Yeah, we heard." I said, announcing my presence, "Sorry." Andrea nodded sullenly.

"What are the doctors saying?" Abigail asked her, placing a soothing hand on Andrea's.

"That it's a kind of post-traumatic stress," Andrea replied, I noticed Abigail's eyes cloud over in understanding.

"That can't be easy," she spoke softly, "For either of you."

Andrea nodded, "We moved in with my dad. He helps out a lot. It's just...when I think about what Lucas went through, what he saw..." She shook her head with a pained look.

"Kids are strong," I assured her, "You'd be surprised what they can deal with."

Abigail glanced up at me with a soft smile as Andrea continued, "You know, he used to have such life. He was hard to keep up with, to tell you the truth." Andrea laughed softly at the memory, twisting her hands, "Now he just sits there. Drawing those pictures, playing with those army men. I just wish—," Lucas approached us, carrying a picture. Andrea smiled at her son, "Hey sweetie."

Lucas looked from his mom to me, holding out a picture. I smiled, nodding to him, taking the image from him, "Thanks. Thanks, Lucas." Looking down at it seeing that it was a house, and it was vaguely familiar. _Where did I see this place?_

Without another word, Lucas headed back to the bench, therefore ending our conversation with Andrea.

_Motel_

_Abigail's Point of View_

Sitting on one side of the bed, I leaned back with an audible sigh escaping from my lips. My lower back had begun hurting, which brought concern from Dean, who was sitting on the other side, close to my head. He had his hand gently on my face, staring at down at me, only to turn around when Sam had walked in.

"So, I think it's safe to say we can rule out Nessie," Sam announced. I rolled onto my stomach to look at him.

I snapped my fingers, frowning, "Damn, I wanted Nessie to be real."

Dean shook his head at me, chuckling, and turned towards Sam, "What do you mean?" He asked Sam.

His brother let out a sigh, sitting across from us on his bed, "I just drove past the Carlton house," Sam replied, "There was an ambulance there. Will Carlton is dead."

Dean furrowed his brows, "He drowned?"

Sam nodded, "Yep. In the sink."

I scrunched my face at Sam, "What the hell?"

"So, you're right, this isn't a creature," Dean murmured, "We're dealing with something else."

"Yeah, but what?"

Dean shrugged, "I don't know," he admitted, "Water wraith, maybe? Some kind of demon?" With a shake of his head, I could see the wheels turning in his mind, "I mean, something that controls water…water that comes from the same source."

"The lake?" I asked, seeing the light bulb go off.

He turned to me, nodding, "Yeah."

"_Which _would explain why it's upping the body count. The lake is draining." Sam concluded, "It'll be dry in a few months. Whatever this thing is, whatever it wants, it's running out of time."

"And if it can get through the pipes…"

"It can get to anyone," I murmured, looking up at the two brothers, "Almost anywhere." Something had dawned on Dean causing him to stand up.

"This is gonna happen again soon," Dean said, crossing the room to a chair, sitting down. I cocked my head, resting my chin on my knuckles.

"And we do know one other thing for sure," Sam said looking between us, "We know this has got something to do with Bill Carlton."

I nodded, "Yeah, it took both his kids."

"And I've been asking around," Sam added, "Lucas's dad, _Chris_—Bill Carlton's godson."

Dean smirked, "Let's go pay Mr. Carlton a visit."

_Lake_

We had returned to Bill Carlton's house, walking down to the lake. First off the bat, we spotted Bill Carlton sitting on the bench at the dock. Approaching him, Sam cleared his throat sending us a glance.

"Mr. Carlton?" Sam asked, seeing the distant man snap out of his daze, looking up at us as we approached him, "We'd like to ask you a few questions," he then added, "if you don't mind."

"We're from the," Dean got hung up trying to remember what we had said earlier, "the Department—"

"I don't care who you're with," Bill Carlton said pointedly, "I've answered enough questions today."

I frowned at him, "Your son said he saw something in that lake," I stated, "What about you?" Bill Carlton looked up at me forlornly, eyes glazed over, "You ever see anything out there?" I asked, motioning my head out at the lake.

"Mr. Carlton, Sophie's drowning and Will's death—" Sam stepped in, "We think there might be a connection to you or your family."

"My children are gone," Bill replied, pained, "It's...it's worse than dying. Go away. _Please._" Without another word, the distraught man that lost both of his children turned to look out at the lake.

I felt drawn to look out as well.

_Come play with me_, the same small child-like voice whispered. I began to wonder if Bill heard what I heard. I nearly jumped when Dean nudged my arm. I stared at him with a deer caught in the headlights look, realizing it was time to go. I nodded, following behind Sam and him closely.

"What do you think?" Sam asked.

Dean shrugged, "Aw, I think the poor guy's been through hell."

"I also think he's not tellin' us somethin'," I stated, glancing back out to the lake. Sam leaned on the Impala sharing a look between his brother. I pursed my lips at them, "Yes, if you two were wonderin', my _spidey _senses are tingling." Dean stilled when he turned around.

"What is it?" Sam asked.

Dean looked at us with wide eyes, as if he were startled from his thoughts, "Huh?" He looked back at the Carlton's house, "Maybe Bill's not the only one who knows something," Dean said, pulling out the drawing Lucas had given him from earlier and looked back at us.

_Sheriff Devins/Andrea's House_

Asking Andrea to speak to Lucas twice in a day was definitely odd to the single mother, "I'm sorry, but I don't think it's a good idea," Andrea said uneasily to me.

"I just need to talk to him," Dean replied with urgency in his voice, "Just for a few minutes."

Sam and I were getting a bit antsy, seeing how Sheriff Devins was her father. We didn't need to cause a scene that would attract unwanted attention. Andrea sighed with exasperation.

"He won't say anything," She told him, "What good's it gonna do?" She asked, shrugging her shoulders.

"Andrea, we think more people might get hurt," Sam said gently, "We think something's happening out there."

She shook her head, "My husband, the others, they just drowned. That's all."

"If that's what you really believe, then we'll go," Dean reasoned with her, "But if you think there's even a _possibility_ that something else could be going on here, please let me talk to your son."

After several minutes of coaxing, Andrea finally gave in, leading us upstairs to Lucas's room. Sam, Andrea, and I stood outside of the door while Dean entered and sat beside Lucas.

"Hey, Lucas," Dean said with a smile, "You remember me?" He looked down to see two more drawings of the same red bike from earlier, "You know, I, uh, I wanted to thank you for that last drawing. But the thing is, I need your help again." Dean dug into his pocket, pulling out the house picture, placing it in front of him, "How did you know to draw this? Did you know something bad was gonna happen? Maybe you could nod yes or no for me." I heard him ask, pressing on. Andrea threw us an uneasy look.

Dean nodded at Lucas's silence, "You're scared. It's okay. I understand. See, when I was your age, I saw something real bad happen to my mom, and I was scared, too. I didn't feel like talking, just like you. But see, my mom—I know she wanted me to be brave. I think about that every day. And I do my best to be brave. And maybe, your dad wants you to be brave too."I was actually stunned at how Dean was with him. A small thought suddenly reared its head, a small _urge_ so to say that maybe perhaps…I shook my head, ridding the thought before it had time to finish. We looked on as Lucas dropped his crayon, looking at Dean.

He handed him another picture, piquing my interest.

"Thanks, Lucas." Dean spoke gently.

_Impala_

Dean and Sam sat in the front seat of the Impala, Sam holding the picture while I sat in the back.

"Andrea said the kid never drew like that till his dad died," Dean said, glancing at the image.

"There are cases—going through a traumatic experience could make people more sensitive to premonitions, psychic tendencies." Sam explained, looking up at his brother.

"Whatever's out there, what if Lucas is tapping into it somehow?" I asked, looking at the two men.

Dean shrugged, "I mean, it's only a matter of time before somebody else drowns," He kept his eyes on Sam, "so if you got a better lead, _please_."

Sam sighed, "Alright, we got another house to find."

"The only problem is there's about a thousand yellow two-stories in this county alone." I stated, leaning forward in the seat to look over their shoulders at the photo. Sam looked down at the picture.

"See this church?" Sam asked, pointing to it, "I bet there are less than a thousand of those around here."

Dean snorted, "Oh, College Boy thinks he's so smart."

"You know, um..." Sam began, changing the subject, "What you said about Mom..." He sighed, "You never told me that before." I leaned backwards, smiling at Dean.

"It's no big deal," Dean said dismissively, realizing that Sam was staring at him. He looked at his brother rolling his eyes, "Oh _God_, we're not gonna have to hug or anything, are we?" Sam laughed, shaking his head while I sat, covering my mouth with my hand to hide a huge smile.

_Church/Sweeney House_

In front of us was a white church, shaped exactly like the one in Lucas's drawing. Dean held up the drawing, eyes flickering back and forth in comparison, before setting his sights on a yellow house beside it. Sam and I looked at him, then looked up at the church when Dean confirmed it. We turned, crossing the street to the yellow house.

Approaching the door, I knocked lightly as an elderly woman answered the door. I gave her my sweetest smile, "We're sorry to bother you, ma'am. Do you mind if we come in?" I asked, fishing out my badge, "U.S. Department of Wildlife."

She nodded, stepping backwards to allow us in.

"We were wondering," Dean asked on his way in, "Does a little boy live here, by chance?" He queried, "He might wear a blue ball cap, has a red bicycle."

The elderly woman, shortly known as Mrs. Sweeney, shook her head with a distant look of remorse on her aged face, "No sir. Not for a very long time." She gazed over to a photograph of the little boy, "Peter's been gone for thirty-five years now," a saddened sigh escaped her lips, "The police never—I never had any idea what happened. He just disappeared." Sam nudged Dean, pointing out a small group of toy soldiers on a nearby table. _Those haven't been touched in ages_, I thought as Mrs. Sweeney continued, "Losing him—you know, it's…" I heard a quick intake of air, "it's worse than dying."

Dean glanced at Sam and I, "Did he disappear from here? I mean, from this house?"

"He was supposed to ride his bike straight home after school, and he never showed up." Mrs. Sweeney explained, watching Dean pick up another photograph. I stepped closer beside him, seeing that there were two boys in the picture, one of them being Peter with his bicycle.

"Peter Sweeney and Billy Carlton," I murmured at the photograph, "Nineteen Seventy." Dean peered at me with a look that told me where we were heading next. I nodded, turning around with my smile in place, "Thank you for your time, Mrs. Sweeney."

Sam, Dean, and I filed out of the elderly woman's house without another word.

_Impala_

Dean and I were in the front while Sam sat in the back. Things were beginning to piece themselves together now. The feeling I got every time we were at the lake always beckoned me, as if I were supposed to go towards it.

"Okay, this little boy Peter Sweeney vanishes, and this is all connected to Bill Carlton somehow," Sam deduced.

Dean looked at his brother through the rearview, "Yeah, Bill sure as hell seems to be hiding something, huh?"

Sam shook his head, "And Bill, the people he loves, they're all getting punished."

"So what if Bill did something to Peter?" I asked both men.

"What if Bill killed him?" Sam added.

Dean thought for a moment, "Peter's spirit would be furious. It'd want revenge," he shrugged, "It's possible."

_Carlton House_

Pulling up to the Carlton's house once again, we piled out of the Impala, approaching the house.

"Mr. Carlton?" Sam called out. Our attention was shortly grabbed by the sound of an engine roaring to life. We didn't hesitate to make our way around the establishment to where the lake was visible.

"Check it out," Dean said seeing Bill going out on the lake in his boat. My heart sank, feeling that urge to go to the water. I broke out into a run, with Sam and Dean following close behind.

"Mr. Carlton!" I yelled out, "You need to come back!"

"Come out of the water!" Dean yelled out as well.

"Turn the boat around!" Sam yelled out, waving his hands to catch the man's attention. I saw a flash of something in the water, causing me to look down, following the wake of the boat as Bill Carlton ignored us. With a huge crash, the water from the lake rose up, tipping the boat over as something grabbed the man _and _his boat. My body froze on the dock, eyes wide with shock at what we had just witnessed. I slowly looked over to Sam and then to Dean, the looks on their faces was evident as well.

_Police Station_

Walking down the street with Sam and Dean, we found ourselves walking to the Police Station, catching Sheriff Devins outside, about to walk in. I looked over to Sam when Dean made haste to catch up to him. Judging by the ragged, irritated look on Devins' face, he had just got back from the Carlton's house. Sam and I followed the two men inside the station, seeing Andrea.

"Sam? Abigail? Dean?" Andrea asked curiously, standing up as she placed a bag and container on her chair, "I didn't expect to see you three here."

Devins looked over to his daughter with a raised brow, "So now you're on a first-name basis?" He stated, walking to his office door and opened it, "What are you doing here?"

"I brought you dinner," Andrea replied, motioning to the bag and container in her chair.

Sheriff Devins gave her an apologetic look, "I'm sorry, sweetheart, I don't really have the time."

"I heard about Bill Carlton," she told her father quietly, "Is it true? Is something going on with the lake?"

Devins blew out an irritated sigh, "Right now we don't know what the truth is. But I think it might be better if you and Lucas went on home."

I twisted around from where I stood when I heard Lucas let out a whine with the look of fear on his face. He jumped up, taking a hold of Dean's arm.

A look of shock fell on Dean, "Lucas, hey, what is it?" he asked softly, earning no reply from the boy, "Lucas," Andrea took Lucas by the arm to try and get him away from Dean.

"Lucas."

I stared on as the distraught boy held onto Dean for dear life, "Lucas, it's okay," he told him, "It's okay. Hey, Lucas, it's okay. It's okay." Finally, Andrea pulled her son away, leading him outside. The poor boy's eyes locked onto Dean. Standing beside him, I clearly saw that he was upset about how Lucas was acting upon hearing him having to go home.

Sam stared on, shocked as Devins threw down his jacket and walked into his workspace. I took the moment, touching Dean's arm gently, "Hey."

Dean looked at me, eyes swirling with concern for the boy's well-being, "Hm."

I examined his face for a beat, "You okay?"

"Yeah," He nodded, following Sam into Devins' workspace, "Come on."

I brought up the rear, "Okay, just so I'm clear," I heard Devins chastise, "You see...something attack Bill's boat, sending Bill—who is a very good swimmer, by the way—into the drink, and you never see him again?" he stated.

Dean nodded, "Yeah, that about sums it up."

Devins scoffed at him, "And I'm supposed to believe this, even though I've already sonar-swept that entire lake? And what you're describing is impossible?" He then looked at each of us with a deep frown, "And you're not really Wildlife Service?" He asked, raising a brow.

I blinked at the sheriff in surprise, feeling a chill of panic run through me. Catching the smirk on Devins' face, he nodded, "That's right, I checked. Department's never heard of you three."

Dean laughed nervously, "See, now, we can explain that."

Devins held up his hand, silencing him, "Enough. _Please._ The only reason you're breathing free air is one of Bill's neighbors saw him steering out that boat just before you did. So, we have a couple of options here." I cast a wary glance at Dean and Sam before looking back at the Sheriff, "I can arrest you for impersonating government officials and hold you as material witnesses to Bill Carlton's disappearance. _Or_," Devins began, "we can chalk this all up to a bad day, you get into your car, you put this town in your rearview mirror, and you don't ever darken my doorstep again."

"Door number two sounds good," Sam said rather quickly in a low voice, earning an approving nod from the Sheriff.

"That's the one I'd pick," he replied coolly.

_Impala_

Having took the Sheriff's advice to skip town, the three of us sat quietly waiting for the light to turn green. Dean sat in the driver's seat in silence, face screwed in a look of concern that wasn't about to budge as I glanced up at the lights that were under a sign pointing to I-43 North to Milwaukee.

The light changed to green and the car didn't budge. I glanced at Sam and Dean in the light of the streetlamps.

"Green." I pointed out.

Dean furrowed his brows, coming out of thought and looked at me in the rear-view mirror, "What?"

Sam leaned forward a bit, looking at the light, "Light's green."

Dean nodded, turning right instead of left. I was genuinely confused at the moment, sending Sam looks while he returned the same equally confused look back. I shook my head at him as he looked at his brother, "Uh, the interstate's the other way," Sam stated slowly as Dean nodded, not looking.

"I know."

Sam gave me another backwards glance and I shrugged at him. He let out an audible sigh, "But Dean, this job?" He said, "I think it's over."

Dean shook his head, "I'm not so sure."

"If Bill murdered Peter Sweeney and Peter's spirit got its revenge, case closed," Sam replied.

"The spirit should be at rest," I suggested, earning a glare from Dean.

"All right, so what if we take off and this thing isn't done?" He snapped, "You know, what if we've missed something? What if more people get hurt?" Dean shook his head glancing to both Sam and I, "Abs, you gotta tell me your spidey-senses weren't off the fritz when the lake opened up on Bill."

I fell silent due to his curt response. After a short moment, I slowly nodded biting my lip as I looked down at my hands, "It's still goin' crazy," I responded softly, not bothering to look up at either brother.

"Why would you think that?" Sam asked.

I opened my mouth to speak until Dean beat me to the punch, "Because Lucas was really scared."

_Not what I was gonna say, but that's new_, I mused to myself as Sam looked at his brother.

"That's what this is about?" Sam asked.

Dean looked ahead, falling silent for a moment, "I just don't want to leave this town until I know the kid's okay."

Sam turned his head to look at me with raised brows. I shrugged, although I was mildly impressed and quite shocked at Dean.

"Who are you?" Sam began with a smile, "And what have you done with my brother?"

Dean threw him a dead stare, "Shut up."

I grinned, "Well, ain't this one helluva Hallmark moment?" Sam's smile widened into a toothy grin and started laughing while I noticed Dean sink a little bit in his seat. I could only imagine what his face looked like, only to see a pair of glittering hazel eyes peering up with an intense glare in the rearview mirror at me. I joined in with Sam, laughing and high fived him. Dean swatted at our hands before he began mumbling curses under his breath.

_Devins/Barr House_

Pulling into Andrea's driveway, the three of us piled out of the Impala, Sam and I looking at Dean with uncertainty.

Sam looked at the house, "Are you sure about this? It's pretty late, man."

Saying nothing, Dean rang the doorbell, Lucas immediately opening the door with a look of terror on his face. Before Dean could get ahold of him, Lucas had already tore off into the house as Dean called out for him, "Lucas? Lucas!"

All of us raced up the stairs, avoiding the water that had begun pouring down it as Lucas pounded on the bathroom door. Pushing him out of the way towards Sam and me, I held him close when Dean kicked down the door. As soon as the door opened, Lucas flew to Dean allowing Sam and I to run in. The bathwater was a murky brown color, giving Sam a wary look when we stuck our arms in, pulling Andrea up. Something jerked her back under, causing me to lose my footing and busted my nose against the side of the tub. I recoiled back in pain, seeing white dots dance across my vision along with tears blurring it.

As bad as I wanted to sit back and nurse my nose, I brushed it off with a shake of my head and helped Sam pull Andrea all the way out, grabbing a towel from behind me and wrapped her in it while she coughed up water. I sat back onto the tiled floor, breathing heavily wiping the blood that was pouring from my nose with my arm, obviously smearing it as it dripped off my chin and onto the floor.

_Later_

The sun was beginning to break across the sky. I sat in a recliner with my head tilted back, my jacket off and a different shirt on while Sam and Andrea-who had long since been dry and wore comfortable clothes, though very distraught about what happened-sat on the couch. Glancing over at a nearby mirror, I frowned as I made out two black crescents forming under my eyes from where I busted my nose on the tub.

_Only me,_ I grumped, _just call me Coon Eyes_. I thought, catching Dean from the corner of my eye looking through notebooks on bookshelves. He glanced up from the notebook at me with a look that asked if I was alright now. I merely nodded, pulling the rag from my nose to see that it had finally quit bleeding.

Andrea had started crying, catching my attention, "It doesn't make any sense," she said shaking her head, "I'm going crazy." I watched her put her face in her hands, before I looked out at the lake, finding myself become fixated once again.

_Come play with me_, the child-like voice whispered. I blinked, tearing my gaze away from the lake and glanced over at Andrea and Sam, then looked at Lucas who looked back at me. _So, he heard it too_.

"No, you're not," Sam told the distraught woman soothingly, "Tell me what happened. Everything."

Looking back at Andrea, she looked down at her hands bitterly and sniffled, "I heard...I thought I heard...there was this voice." She finally said.

I slowly straightened up in the recliner, "What did it say?" I asked, earning a frightened look from the woman.

"It said...it said 'come play with me'." Andrea replied, then looked to Sam, "What's happening?" She asked, sobbing.

From behind me, Dean pulled out a scrapbook, opening it and flipped through the pages. Closing it, he walked around the recliner and set the book down in front of Andrea, opening it again to a picture. I tilted my head and leaned forward to get a better look.

"Do you recognize the kids in these pictures?" He asked her.

Andrea looked up at him, "What?" Then she looked down at the old photo, shaking her head,  
"Um, um, no. I mean, except that's my dad right there," she stated, pointing to her father as a child, "He must have been about twelve in these pictures." Then she moved her finger to another image of her father. It was the same image of him standing with Peter Sweeney. My eyes flitted up to Sam's face, seeing him give me a look.

"Chris Barr's drowning," Dean said to Sam, "The connection wasn't to Bill Carlton. It must have been to the sheriff."

"Bill and the sheriff-," I murmured trailing off into thought.

"—they were both involved with Peter," Sam finished for me.

Andrea's eyes widened, "What about Chris? My dad—what are you talking about?"

Dean looked sideways, seeing Lucas staring out the window, "Lucas?" The silent boy opened the door, walking outside, "Lucas, what is it?" I rose to my feet, walking outside with Dean, Sam, and Andrea.

"Lucas, honey?" Andrea called after him as he stopped ahead, looking at the ground before peering up at Dean.

Turning to me, Dean gazed at me for a moment, "Take Lucas and Andrea back to the house and stay there, okay?" Furrowing my brows, I didn't argue with him and nodded. Ushering them both back into the house, Dean and Sam rounded the house to retrieve shovels from the Impala. Andrea and I sat in silence, hearing the audible scraping of shovels against the ground before hearing Sam and Dean talking.

Andrea turned to watch whatever they were doing then jumped up with a gasp. I looked up at her with furrowed brows, rising to my feet as well, seeing the Sheriff pointing a gun at Sam and Dean, "Go to your room, sweetie." Andrea told Lucas, "Now. Lock the door and wait for me, don't come out," Without a word, Lucas ran up to me, clasping his arms around my waist, "Lucas!"

I glanced outside to Dean and Sam before looking back at her, "It's fine, I got 'im." I replied, catching her unsure look, "Really."

Andrea nodded before rushing out of the house, leaving me with Lucas. I looked down at the silent boy, who was staring up at me, "You hear that voice too?" Still silent, a flicker of emotion passed in his eyes. I looked up to the scene outside, "C'mon, let's go up to your room. Wha'cha say?" I said passing off a smile, only to be drug out a different door by Lucas, "Hey, hey, hey. Lucas." I glanced up seeing that we were a ways away from the confrontation.

"Yeah, and how do you know that?" Devins said curtly, gun still aimed at Dean and Sam. I frowned deeply at him, fighting the urge to join in.

Sam stood his ground, staring at him with a stony look, "Because that's exactly what it did to Bill Carlton."

Devins scoffed at Dean and Sam, "Listen to yourselves, both of you. You're insane. Including that girl that's with you."

"I don't really give a rat's ass what you think of us," Dean replied, "But if we're gonna bring down this spirit, we need to find the remains, salt them, and burn them into dust." He continued, "Now tell me you buried Peter somewhere." Devins stayed silent, as a look of realization fell on Dean's face, "Tell me you didn't just let him go in the lake."

I heard Peter's voice call out to us, "_Come play with me_." Lucas turned towards the source of the voice, and looked up at me. Glancing back to the group, I looked back down at Lucas. Peter wasn't going to get him, one way or another.

"You trust me?" I asked the boy. He stared up at me, giving me a slight nod. I swallowed down a knot in my throat and nodded back at him, "A'ight."

We began to walk away from the confrontation, Andrea being the last one to speak as the distance muffled them out.

_Dean's POV_

Andrea stared at her father, "Dad, is any of this true?" The Sheriff shook his head at his daughter.

"No," he replied, "Don't listen to them. They're liars and they're dangerous." I stood still, despite wanting to deck this asshole in the face.

Andrea looked at him in disbelief, shaking her head, "Something tried to drown me," she told him, "Chris died on that lake." I watched as Andrea's father looked at Sammy and I, "Dad, look at me." He slowly looked back at her, "Tell me you—you didn't kill anyone." Again, Devins looked away, obviously ashamed, "Oh my God." She breathed out, tears welling up in her eyes as she covered her mouth.

Devins shook his head with remorse on his face, "Billy and I were at the lake. Peter was the smallest one. We always bullied him, but this time, it got rough." He inhaled, "We were holding his head under the water." Looking up at us with tears in his eyes, "We didn't mean to. But we held him under too long and he drowned. We let the body go, and it sank." I looked over at Sam upon hearing this man's grim confession.

"Oh, Andrea, we were kids," Devins told his daughter, trying to make her understand, "We were so scared. It was a mistake. But, Andrea, to say that I have anything to do with these drownings, with Chris, because of some ghost?" He shook his head, "It's not rational."

"All right, listen to me, all of you," I began, "We need to get you away from this lake, as far as we can, _right now_." Something suddenly caught Andrea's eye as a look of sheer terror took its place making her gasp. Turning, I felt my heart sink into my stomach upon seeing Abigail and Lucas down at the end of the dock, reaching over.

"Lucas!" Devins yelled, panicked. I had already started off towards the dock with Sam at my heels.

"Lucas! Abs!" I yelled out at the top of my lungs, hoping and praying that they would move away.

"Lucas! Baby, stay where you are!" I heard Andrea cry out, frantically. As we reached the edge of the lake, Lucas was flung backwards as Abigail disappeared underneath the water.

"Abigail!" Sam and I yelled out in chorus as we raced down the dock and dove into the lake after our sister. Christ, this was Michigan all over again. The cold water instantly chilled me to bone as my visibility quickly went to zero. After all, it was dark and murky. I couldn't let Abigail die because of some ancient history!

Surfacing, I took a deep breath seeing Andrea holding Lucas for dear life, though stood at the edge of the dock. I looked around searching for Sam, "Sam?" I called out.

A little ways from me, Sam had surfaced shaking his head 'no'. My heart sank even further. Time was running out. We dove into the water, my heart pounding loudly in my ears searching for some sign of Abigail. I couldn't lose her again. Diving deeper, it was no time I had to come back up for air.

_Son of a bitch!_ I cursed in my mind, surfacing again only to see Devins in the water up to his neck.

"Peter. That girl, don't hurt her." I heard him call out, "Please, it's not her fault. It's not my family's fault," He begged, "It's mine. Please take me."

"Jake, no!" I called out him, as a head popped out of the water in front of Jake.

"Just let it be over!" The man told the head. Instantly, he was dragged down.

"Daddy! Daddy! No!" Andrea screamed out. Sam and I dove down once again. I didn't care how deep I had gone, I wasn't going to let anyone die. Not Abigail, not Jake. _No one_. My lungs, by now, had started to protest from the lack of air. I noticed long brown hair drifting in the water, then saw Abigail staring back at me, not moving. Grabbing her, I wasted no time ascending back to the surface.

_Not again_, I chanted, gasping out as soon as we broke the water, "Sam!" I called out, clutching Abgail's limp form tightly against me. I looked around wildly for Sam to have Jake, only to see him swimming my way empty-handed as I started towards the shoreline.

Feeling solid ground under my boots, I held Abigail closely, falling to my knees as I jerked her jacket open and began doing chest compressions, "Don't do this to me, Abigail," I told her between ragged breaths, glancing to her pale face, "Not again." I forced myself to swallow down the knot that had formed in my throat, feeling my heart hammer against my chest.

After thirty chest compressions, I quickly tilted her head back and clamped her nose shut, forcing air into her lungs for a second.

"Dean," Sam began, I turned my head, looking at my brother, "Her chest rose."

I immediately forced another breath of air. I felt her chest rise, then shuddered. I sat back, hoping, _praying_ that nothing has happened to her, and watched as she suddenly rolled over onto her side, spluttering and coughed as water came from her mouth before she rolled onto her back, breathing heavily. I took her in my arms, holding her tightly against my body as tears burned my eyes. Blinking them away quickly, I glanced up to meet Sam's look of relief, then looked over seeing Andrea and Ben staring at us. Andrea had a sorrowful, yet relieved look as well and Ben…well, he looked the same as before, though a small smile had taken place on his face. _It was a start_.

Looking down at Abigail, her eyelids fluttered opened, gazing up at me, "Dean?"

I forgot I was holding my breath and exhaled, "Yeah?"

"No more lakes." She mumbled. Sam started to chuckle, feeling myself smile and began laughing softly and pulled her against me tighter.

I shook my head, feeling Abigail's cold skin against mine, "No more lakes," I promised.

_Street_

_Abigail's Point of View_

Dean and I walked out of the motel with his arm slung over my shoulder, followed by Sam with his duffel bag. Since Jake Devins' death, Dean had been rather silent. Sam and I both knew that he was disappointed that he couldn't do anything to save him. Allowing his arm to fall from my shoulder, Dean opened the back passenger door as Sam side-stepped me and tossed his bag in.

"Look," Sam said, breaking the silence, "we're not gonna save everybody."

Dean looked at him over his shoulder for a long moment, then nodded, "I know."

"Abigail, Sam, Dean." Andrea's voice called out. The three of us turned around, seeing her and Lucas walking up.

Dean smiled at them, "Hey."

"We're glad we caught you," she said with a smile, "We just, um, we made you lunch for the road." Andrea looked down at Lucas, who was carrying a tray of sandwiches. I smiled at him, "Lucas insisted on making the sandwiches himself." She explained laughing a little.

He looked up to his mom, "Can I give it to them now?"

Andrea nodded, "Of course." She said, smiling and kissed him on the head.

Dean looked at Lucas, then glanced up at me, "Come on, Lucas, let's load this into the car." He said, leading Lucas to the car.

I folded my arms gazing at Andrea, "How you holding up?"

"It's just gonna take a long time to sort through everything, you know?"

Sam sighed, his head sagging in a sympathetic way, "Andrea, I'm sorry."

The mourning woman shook her head, looking at the two of us, "You saved my son. I can't ask for more than that," She replied softly, "Dad loved me. He loved Lucas. No matter what he did, I just have to hold on to that." Sam and I nodded, then watched as Dean and Lucas put the sandwiches in the car. I smirked at the shaggy headed boy.

"Alright, if you're gonna be talking now, this is a very important phrase," I told him, earning a grin from Lucas, "So Dean and I want you to repeat it one more time."

"Zeppelin rules!" He shouted with a toothy grin.

Dean grinned at him, "That's right," he held up his hand, "Up high."

Obliging, Lucas high-fived him, grin still intact. Watching Dean interact with Lucas made me smile stupidly as I wrapped my arms around myself in my second pair of clean and dry clothes, "You take care of your mom, okay?" I said softly, before the boy suddenly hugged my waist. I blinked at him in shock, before returning it. For a moment, I saw my brother, Mikey, in Lucas and I began tearing up.

"Alright," he replied, looking up at me with a grin. Quickly, I blinked them away before feeling Andrea touch my arm. Looking at her, she wrapped me in a hug as well.

"Thank you," she whispered, before stepping back. I nodded, not really saying anything.

"Abigail, move your ass," Dean called out, making me realize that Sam and him both were in the Impala, "We're gonna run out of daylight before we hit the road."

With a roll of my eyes, I squeezed Andrea's hand lightly before climbing across Sam to the middle, hearing _Movin' On_ by Bad Company playing across the radio. Peering out of the window, Andrea and Lucas were waving as we pulled out onto the hardtop and drove away.


	7. Phantom Traveler

**Hello Everyone! First off, I want to apologize to everyone for this late posting! I have been uber busy! I had a wedding to attend out of state and then as soon as I got back home, I had finals to worry about! Nonetheless, I can say I have finally got the time to finish chapter 6! **

**Again, and always, I want to thank my readers! Ya'll are awesomely awesome! I couldn't have done this without you!**

**Also, I'm taking requests, tips, little tid-bits of whatever you'd like to see in upcoming chapters! It can be anything from quotes, scenes from movies or shows, anything! Just send me a PM or leave 'em in your reviews!**

**Also, if you see any boo-boos, shoot me a message and I'll fix it!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the ****_Supernatural_**** franchise, except for Abigail and whatever non-canon plots, schemes, or scenes! (;**

* * *

Sprawled out on his stomach in the middle of the bed and dressed in a pair of black shorts and a shirt, Dean appeared to still be asleep. I smirked to myself, catching the 'sleeping' man's hand reach up and under his pillow for the knife that he had hid from the other side of the glass barrier of the room, despite being wadded up amongst the sheets. I made my presence be known walking through the motel room, singing _Dream On_ by Aerosmith to myself, setting down my keys and the bag of goodies that Sam and I had retrieved from Wally World earlier as Dean peeked up at me with squinted eyes from the light of the window, visibly relaxing back into the bed just before he plopped his head back onto the pillow.

"Mornin' sunshine," I said rather cheerfully to him, sipping on a large cup of coffee.

Dean groaned, "What time is it?" he asked, rubbing his eyes.

Taking a brief glance at my cellphone, I took another sip of coffee, "Uh, it's about five forty-five."

"In the morning?" he asked, blinking several times before he rose on his forearms to look at the bedside clock for reassurance.

"Yep," I replied with a smile, crossing the room with the bag and his coffee. I set the bag down in the empty space beside Dean, handing him his coffee before I sat down on the side I slept on, kicking off my shoes and swung my legs onto the bed.

He smiled at me taking the coffee before sitting up, "Where does the day go?"

Placing the bag in his lap, Dean dug around in it before pulling out a handheld apple pie with a grateful grin. Unwrapping it, he took a rather large bite and looked at me, chewing. Realizing he was staring, I glanced back at him, peering into those beautiful eyes of his as he leaned over to me planting a gentle kiss on my lips, his breath; holding a scent of apples and cinnamon. I smiled softly at him when we parted, running my fingertips down his jaw.

Staring into his ever calculating gaze, he straightened back up, digging into the bag for another pie, "Did you get any sleep last night?" he asked, smiling victoriously as he pulled out another apple pie.

I shrugged a response, picking at my coffee lid, "Yeah, I grabbed a couple hours."

"Liar," he accused, taking a bite from the pie, savoring the gooey apple-cinnamon filling, "Cause I was up at three, and you were watching a George Foreman infomercial."

Smirking at him knowing that I was caught in a lie, I took a long sip of coffee, "Hey, what can I say? It's rivetin' TV."

"When was the last time you got a good night's sleep?" He pointed out. I clamped my jaw tightly, looking down at my coffee cup.

"I don't know, Dean," I replied, "a little while, I guess." Looking up at him with a reassuring look, I laughed softly to throw him off, "It's not a big deal."

Tossing the wrapper into the bag, Dean nodded, "Yeah, it is. I know that you haven't slept well in the past couple of months."

"Dean," I began to protest, though after the sharp look that he had given me, I decided against it.

"You're getting to be as bad as Sam," he stated, "If not worse."

"It is worse," I said with indifference in my voice. Those hazel eyes of Dean's bored into me with concern. I shrugged at him, holding my coffee between my hands, frowning.

"You think you're going to see him again aren't you?" Dean stated.

I looked up at him, "That and I've been dreamin'a lot of my family…" I confessed with a shake of my head, my lips formed into a thin-line preventing my bottom lip from trembling, "I just can't sleep anymore without seein' my brother and sisters' faces-burned faces-mind you," I added, "Starin' at me, or screamin', or yellin',_it's my fault_." I shook my head again, ridding myself of the images that flashed across my mind while Dean stared at me silently with concern dripping off of him now.

He reached out taking my hand in his and squeezed, "Hey," he said trying to grab my attention, "Hey…" He said again, softly but with urgency underneath his voice. I looked at him quietly, feeling him stroke the back of my hand with the pad of his thumb, "We'll get this lined out, alright?" I merely nodded, tucking a strand of loose hair behind my ear.

Hearing the rustling of the bag, I assumed that he placed it on the floor before taking my coffee from me. The bed sank as he placed his and mine on the floor with the bag, before pulling me against his body, lying back onto the bed. Letting out a small sigh, I put my head on his chest allowing us to feel a brief moment of calm before hearing a knock and the door opening to our room. Dean and I looked, seeing that it Sam, holding his own cup of coffee and smiled at us, rounding the corner of the barrier that had separated the door and the sleeping area of the room.

"Morning," Sam said as he crossed the room and sat on the edge of the empty bed beside us.

I sat up on my elbow, "Mornin' Sammy," I replied, "Sleep good?"

The look he gave me before he faked a smile told me otherwise, "Yeah, I got a few hours."

Dean arched his brow at him, "What is this, the league of liars?" Sam blinked in confusion.

"Dr. Phil knows we were up," I replied with a dismissive shrug as Sam looked between us, mostly at Dean, knowing that he was going to hear a lecture.

"Seriously, are you still having nightmares about Jess?" Dean asked, giving me a sour look at his nickname.

Our brother sighed, "Yeah," he admitted, "But it's not just her. It's everything. I just forgot, you know? This job," Sam shook his head, "Man, it gets to you."

"You can't let it," Dean said casually, reaching for his coffee and mine, handing mine to me and took a sip of his, "You two can't bring it home like that."

Sam scoffed a little, "So, what? All this," he stated, "It...never keeps you up at night?"

Dean shook his head innocently, as Sam and I both raised a brow at him.

"Never? You're never afraid?" Sam stated in a matter-of-factly tone.

"No, not really," Dean replied in a casual tone. Sam reached behind me, under Dean's pillow and held up the knife he had hid to prove him wrong. I bit my lips in a poor prevention of a smile, as Dean took the knife back with a calm face, even though he was caught, "That's not fear," he replied, "That is precaution."

Sam shook his head tiredly, "All right, whatever," he said, "I'm too tired to argue," He then looked to me, "I don't see how you can stay up for three days and not be tired."

I shrugged, "Comes naturally, Sammy boy."

Dean's cellphone started to ring, saving me from another interrogation from Dean, who only threw me a look that told me we'd have a serious talk later. I silently thanked the stars for small things as the serious look turned into a quizzical look as to who was calling his cellphone, "Hello?" he answered.

Realization fell over him and he nodded, "Oh, right, yeah. Up in Kittanning, Pennsylvania, the poltergeist thing." I looked at him with furrowed brows, then to Sam who looked at us with curiosity in his eyes, "It's not back, is it?" Dean asked, his voice laced with concern.

I really strained my ears to hear the voice, but I knew who Dean was speaking to as soon as Kittanning was brought up. That job was a doozy with Dean and I coming out with cuts and bruises, and a dislocated shoulder, while John came out scotch-free. Lucky for him.

I rotated my left shoulder at the thought of Kittanning, as Dean asked, "What is it?" After a short moment, Dean nodded and closed his phone.

"What is it?" I found myself echoing his last question, as Dean shrugged his shoulders in response.

He sighed, "Wouldn't say. Wanted to talk in person."

_Hangar_

Walking on the right side of Dean, I gazed at our old client, Jerry, as we walked through the hangar.

"Thanks for making the trip so quick," Jerry said with relief in his voice to Dean and I, "I ought to be doing you guys a favor, not the other way around." He looked to Sam, who was walking on his left, "Dean, Abigail, and your dad really helped me out."

Sam nodded, "Yeah, he told me. It was a poltergeist?"

A worker we passed by apparently overheard us speaking and piped in, "Poltergeist? Man I loved that movie."

Jerry's head snapped in the man's direction, "Hey, nobody's talking to you," he spoke harshly, "Keep walking," he ordered a group of onlookers before he bowed his head at us, "Damn right it was a poltergeist, practically tore our house apart. Tell you something, if it wasn't for the both of you and your dad, I probably wouldn't be alive." Jerry said in a low voice to Dean and I once again before turning his attention to Sam, "Your dad said you were off at college. Is that right?"

Sam nodded once again, "Yeah, I was," he replied elusively, "I'm-taking some time off."

Jerry chuckled, "Well, he was real proud of you. I could tell. He talked about you all the time."

Exchanging a look with Dean, I looked over to see a surprised look on our brother's face, "He did?" I heard him ask softly.

Jerry nodded, "Yeah, you bet he did." He affirmed, looking back over to Dean, "Oh, hey, you know I tried to get a hold of him, but I couldn't. How's he doing, anyway?"

"He's, um, wrapped up in a job right now." I replied with an anxious smile.

A smile graced Jerry's face as we rounded a corner, "Well, we're missing the old man, but we get Sam. Even trade, huh?"

Dean and I laughed, knowing Sam shook his head apparently uncomfortable from the praises.

"No, not by a long shot." I heard him murmur.

Jerry looked at us, "I got something I want you guys to hear," he stated, leading us into his office.

_Office_

Sitting in an office chair, situated between Sam and Dean, the three of us stared at our client attentive to what he had to say.

"I listened to this. And, well, it sounded like it was up your alley." He said, placing a CD into a drive, "Normally I wouldn't have access to this. It's the cockpit voice recorder for United Britannia flight 2485. It was one of ours." He explained.

Pressing play, the scratchiness of the recording screeched over the speakers abruptly, _"Mayday! Mayday! Repeat! 2485-immediate instruction...may be experiencing some mechanical failure..._" I leaned in further, after hearing a loud swooshing sound then a loud roar resonated from it, drowning out the pilot's voice. With furrowed brows, I glanced up at Jerry's face seeing that he knew I heard something underneath it.

He continued somberly, "Took off from here, crashed about two hundred miles south." Jerry looked at each of us, "Now, they're saying mechanical failure. Cabin depressurized somehow. Nobody knows why," I heard him let out a sigh, shaking his head, "Over a hundred people on board. Only seven got out alive. Pilot was one. His name is Chuck Lambert. He's a good friend of mine. Chuck is, uh...well, he's pretty broken up about it. Like it was his fault."

"You don't think it was?" Sam asked.

Jerry's look hardened with firm belief that it wasn't, "No, I don't."

I nodded at him, "Jerry, we're gonna need passenger manifests," I waved my hand a little, "Um..a list of survivors." I explained.

Jerry bobbed his head, "Alright," he replied without a question.

"And uh, any way we can take a look at the wreckage?" Dean asked as well.

The man looked between us, "The other stuff is no problem. But the wreckage..." A moment of silence fell between us in a moment of hesitation, "Guys, the NTSB has it locked down in an evidence warehouse. No way I've got that kind of clearance."

Dean frowned and inclined his head dismissively, "No problem."

_Copy Jack Store_

Leaning against the counter, I hummed Reba MacIntire's rendition of _Fancy_ while I waited on the IDs before I peered over my shoulder. With a smirk gracing my lips, I looked through the window of the store seeing Sam rolling his eyes at Dean, who was speaking, but mostly with his hands and a serious look on his face.

_What in the world can they be talkin' about?_ I thought before hearing a series of beeps and smiled upon seeing three ID cards pop out. Picking them up, I went over to the cash register and paid the clerk, smiling sweetly at him.

"Thanks, hun," I stated as he handed me the receipt, before turning on my heel and walked out of the store, passing a woman that Dean would deem, attractive. I smiled sweetly at her, holding the door open.

"Thanks," she said with a smile.

I nodded, "No problem." Turning, I caught Dean eyeing the blonde with an appraising look then nudged Sam, inclining his head in her direction.

_After eight years, some things never change_, I thought upon getting closer to the brothers. Dean had his hands shoved in his jeans with an overdramatic huff.

"You've been in there _forever_," he groaned out.

I tossed him a grin, holding up three IDs, "Can't rush perfection, darlin'."

Sam took his, inspecting it before he looked up at me in mild shock, "Homeland Security?" Sam shook his head, "That's pretty illegal, even for us."

Dean inclined his head at Sam, "Well, it's something new," he said, taking his ID and looked at it, "People haven't seen it a thousand times." With a nod of approval, Dean moved to get into the Impala. We followed suit.

"Alright, so, what do you got?" Dean asked after he slammed the car door shut and got comfortable.

Sam pulled out his laptop, "Well, there's definitely EVP on the cockpit voice recorder," Pulling up the EVP, he glanced at the two of us, "Listen."

Hearing the dull click of the mouse pad, I heard the scratchiness of the recording play, "_No survivors!_" The mystery voice roared. It literally sent chills up and down my spine as I frowned.

Catching the slight smirk on Dean's lips, he raised a brow at the voice, "_No survivors?_ What's that supposed to mean?" He asked, "There were seven survivors."

"Got me," Sam said, shrugging. I sat in the back, falling silent. That familiar uneasy feeling was already rearing its head.

"So, what are you thinking?" I asked slowly in order for me to choose my words, "A haunted flight?"

Sam shrugged, "There's a long history of spirits and death omens on planes and ships, like phantom travelers."

Dean and I nodded, encouraging him to speak further. I knew what he meant, but from Dean's spacey look, he needed a refresher since planes weren't really our thing.

"_Or, _remember flight 401?"

"The one that crashed, the airline salvaged some of its parts, put it in other planes, then the spirit of the pilot and copilot haunted those flights." Dean stated as Sam looked between him and me, nodding. I smirked, he knew exactly what a phantom traveler was. I think he just enjoyed making Sam tell him to make sure he knew himself.

"Right." He confirmed.

"Well…maybe we got a similar deal," I said with a small shrug.

Dean nodded, mulling things over, "Alright, so, _survivors_," he began, "which one do you want to talk to first?"

I peered down at the list of survivors, "Uhm…Third on the list: Max Jaffey…Joffey?" I rose my brows at the last name, "Jaffey." I inclined my head repeating the first pronunciation, hearing Dean and Sam chuckling at me.

"Why him?" Dean asked with a teasing grin in place.

Sam, who was chuckling as well, answered for me, "Well, for one, he's from around here. And two, if anyone saw anything, he did."

Taking it seriously now, Dean asked, "What makes you say that?"

"Well, I spoke to his mother," Sam stated, "And she told me where I could find him—Riverfront Psychiatric Hospital."

I frowned in distaste at the mention of _hospital_. Needles, cemeteries, and looney bins were not my thing. Neither where creepy crawlies of any forms, "Yay," I mumbled dryly. The two boys' shoulders shook with silent amusement.

_Riverfront Psychiatric Hospital-Garden_

Out of the hospital and in the garden, Sam, Dean, and I walked alongside Max Jaffey, who was walking with a cane; a look of irritation taking place on his face.

"I don't understand," He replied with an irritated shake of his head, "I already spoke with Homeland Security."

Dean nodded, "Some new information has come up, so if you could just answer a couple of questions…"

I inclined my head with a reassuring look to the man, "Just before the plane went down, did you notice anythin'…unusual?" I asked.

Max looked me up and down skeptically, "Like what?"

"Strange lights, weird noises, maybe." Sam explained.

"Voices." Dean added.

Max shook his head, "No, nothing." He replied, averting his gaze. Finding a table with a few wooden chairs, we sat down, looking at him.

"Mr. Joffey-," Dean began.

"_Jaffey_," Max quipped, cutting Dean off quickly-irritated once again. I wanted to roll my eyes at this man. He was a little jumpy for my taste.

"Jaffey," Dean repeated, correctly this time, "You checked yourself in here, right?" Max's head bobbed in confirmation at the question, "Can I ask why?"

He looked at Dean in disbelief, "I was a little stressed. I survived a plane crash."

"And that's what terrified you?" Dean pushed, "That's what you were afraid of?"

Max spooked, "I…I don't want to talk about this anymore." Dean turned to me and Sam, frustration clearly swirling around in his eyes. It was our turn to calm the jittery survivor.

"See, I think maybe you did see somethin' up there," I stepped in placing a gentle hand on Max's arm. He looked down at my touch, then up at me, "We need to know what."

He contemplated speaking, the answer being right on the tip of his tongue, then he shook his head, "No. _No_, I was...delusional." Max stammered, trying to gain his bearings, "Seeing things."

Dean looked unimpressed, "He was seeing things."

Sam arched his brow at his brother's mockery, "It's okay," Sam said gently, "Then just tell us what you _thought_ you saw, please."

Max looked between Sam and I as he bowed his head in reconciliation, before he peered back up at us, "There was...this—man. And, uh, he had these...eyes," he began, lifting a hand and circled it around his eyes, "—these, uh...black eyes. And I saw him—or I thought I saw him..." Max shook his head trying to recall the grim memory.

Dean blinked, "What?"

"He opened the emergency exit. But that's...that's impossible, right?" Max asked looking to each of us in need of confirmation, "I mean, I looked it up. There's something like two tons of pressure on that door."

I nodded, "Yeah."

Sam shifted forward in his seat, "This man, uh, did he seem to appear and disappear rapidly? It would look something like a mirage?"

Max scoffed at him, "What are you, nuts?"

In disbelief, Sam tilted his head at him. I rose an eyebrow at the man, _pot this is kettle, you're black._ I stated in my mind.

"He was a passenger. He was sitting right in front of me." Max stated pointedly.

Dean looked to Sam and I before nodding, "Alright, thank you for your time."

We all three stood up, leaving Max sitting in his chair. Sam and I gave him a curt nod before following Dean out of the garden and back to the parking lot where the Impala sat, waiting.

"What a wackjob," Dean grumbled, shoving a hand into his pocket in search of his keys, "I mean, seriously."

Sam rolled his eyes from the passenger side of the Impala, leaning on the roof with this arms folded, "He was in a plane crash, Dean, of course he's going to be off-putting."

"Reguardless," I added, "Even though he's jumpier than a jack rabbit," I caught a glimpse of Dean's lips curling in amusement, "I have to admit I believe 'im when he's talkin' about a demon or whatever we're dealin' with," I looked to my brothers as I rounded the back of the Impala to the driver side back door, "No normal human being is gonna just open an aircraft door while the plane is at an elevation of anywhere between twenty-five to forty-_thousand_ feet with two plus tons of pressure against it." Sam and Dean blinked at me with impressed looks. I smirked, "I like to think I don't just have the looks."

Dean smirked, placing a quick kiss on my forehead, "You have more than that, cherry-pie. And you have a point." Opening the door, he reached back to unlock my door before he climbed in, stretching to open the passenger. Sam and I got in, closing the car doors in unison as the Impala's engine turned, roaring to life, "If this _thing_ is going hit another plane, then we need to get to the root of what happened."

Picking up the packets of paper that were strewn in the backseat, I flipped through the lists, "Exactly," I murmured, glancing at the names, "Let's see…" I pursed my lips, making awkward sounds for that one name, "George Phelps…George Phelps…"

Sam's hand reached back, "Let me look for it," He said as I rolled my eyes at him, handing the pack of paper.

"Find us ole Georgie Porgie, Sammy," I drawled out.

In no time, Sam had found the address, "His widow isn't far." I frowned at how fast he found the address, noticing him looking back at me with a smug look. I made a sour look at him, sticking my tongue out. Sam shook his head and chuckled, in no time, Dean had joined in.

_Phelps House_

Pulling up in front of George Phelps' house, the three of us peered out of the windows at the establishment.

"So, here we are," Sam said, "George Phelps, seat twenty C."

Stepping out of the car, Dean shook his head going back over the possibilities, "Man, I don't care how strong you are. Even yolked up on PCP or something, no way you can open up an emergency door during a flight."

"Unless you're a demon or whatever," I shrugged.

"Maybe this George guy is some kind of creature, maybe in human form." Sam suggested as he stepped out.

"Does that look like a creature's lair to you?" Dean asked as Sam turned to see a perfectly ordinary house decorated with several vibrant colored flowers and ivy. I blew out a breath shoving my hands within my pockets when we crossed the street. Stepping on the stoop, Dean knocked on the door and stepped back upon hearing the lock click. As the door opened, an older woman answered with a curious look on her face.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"Mrs. Phelps?" Dean asked, "We're with Homeland Security, we were wanting to ask you a couple of questions pertaining to your husband, George."

_Inside_

Sitting across the table from Mrs. Phelps, Sam and Dean stared attentively at the widow. I leaned forward from where I sat, seeing a photograph of a man who had a receding hairline and smiling.

I looked up at Mrs. Phelps, "This is your late husband?"

She looked over to the photo of her late husband, a look of grief passing over her face, "Yes, that was my George."

"And you said he was a...dentist?" Dean asked, earning a slight nod from Mrs. Phelps.

"_Mhmm, _he was headed to a convention in Denver," she replied, "Do you know he was petrified to fly?" Her eyes cast down at her lap, "For him to go like that…"

"How long were you married?" Sam asked in an attempt to change the subject.

"Thirteen years," Mrs. Phelps replied.

Sam nodded, "In all that time, did you ever notice anything…strange about him…anything out of the ordinary?"

We sat in silence while the widowed woman fell silent in thought, then looked at us, "Well…uh, he had acid reflux," she replied innocently, "if that's what you mean."

Sam and Dean shared a look. I smiled sweetly, "Thank you, Mrs. Phelps for your time. You helped out a lot." I gave the two men a quick glance, "We'll be on our way."

She nodded, "You're welcome."

Walking down the stairs out front, I ran my hands through my hair as Dean and Sam walked in front of me.

"I mean, if it goes without saying. It just doesn't make any sense." Sam said.

"A middle-aged dentist with an ulcer is not exactly evil personified," I said taking a step onto the sidewalk.

Dean nodded in agreement, "What we need to do is get inside that NTSB warehouse, check out that wreckage."

Sam looked at his brother with an uneasy glint in his eyes, "Okay. But if we're gonna go that route; we'd better look the part."

_Mort's For Style-Suit rental_

Sam and Dean stepped out of the suit rental shop dressed in fresh black suits, white shirts, and black ties. I gave them an amused toothy grin that was almost deemed salacious as I eyed the both of them. Amusingly, they looked like they were going to prom and from the look on Dean's face; I'm sure he felt like it.

"Man, I feel like one of the Blue's Brothers," he whined out, looking to me for my opinion.

Taking a step closer to him, I fixed his tie and smiled up at him, "No you don't," I replied giving him a soft kiss of reassurance, "To me, a suit is what lingerie is to you." Dean straightened up with his infamous grin, his chest already puffing out at my words. In truth, Dean looked incredibly good. So good, it was almost illegal.

"Really?" Dean asked with a grin taking place on his handsome visage.

Sam rolled his eyes, "No, you look like a seven grader going to his first dance."

Instantaneously, Dean crumpled and looked down at himself once again, "I _hate _this thing!" He hissed out vehemently.

I frowned, throwing Sam a heated look, as he shrugged with a smug grin on his face, "Hey," I said, "You want into this warehouse or not?"

With a deep frown, Dean stared into my eyes with those glorious hazel eyes of his and nodded. He kissed me once again as we got into the Impala, Sam already sitting shotgun.

"So, tell me again why you're not dressing in a monkey suit too?" He asked, turning the rearview mirror in my direction.

I grinned, "'Cause I get to be the getaway driver."

Dean cringed visibly from in front, "Oh, I'm so sorry, baby." He said stroking the Impala's dashboard. I arched a brow at him.

"Way to strike down a girl's ego, Dean." I spoke dryly.

"I know how you treat her," Dean shot back incredulously.

I blinked, "I'm not _that_ bad."

"You've shot out the windows at _least_ thirteen times!" He stated.

"Savin' yours, dad's, and Sammy's asses," I quipped looking at my nails casually, "And like you haven't?"

Dean opened his mouth to speak, then shut it, then opened it again, "You've wrecked her three times."

"You've done it more than me," I replied tilting my head, "If not worse."

He pursed his lips in distaste, "You…" he hesitated, stumped, "You, uh…"

I leaned forward, brows raising as I awaited for another answer, "I, what?"

"Shut up," Dean replied, before giving the car another sorrowful look as he put the car in reverse, then pulled out. Sam, by this time, was laughing at Dean's defeat. I pursed my lips in satisfaction, and folded my arms across my chest.

_NTSB Warehouse_

I watched from the backseat as Dean and Sam clad in black suits walked into the warehouse from a distance. A few moments had passed by before I slowly climbed in the front seat, readying myself in case a bump was to arise. Minutes ticked by ever so slowly when my inconsistent self-ramblings turned into a full blown concert in which Queen's _Bohemian_ _Rhapsody_ had taken the spotlight and my mediocre air-drumming was at its peak.

Glancing over, I noticed a shiny black, government issue Chevy Tahoe cruising in. My heart spiked upon seeing two black suited men step out from the SUV.

_Shit._

I pulled out my phone, quickly scrolling through my speed-dial to Dean's number. Hitting the green button, I put the device to my ear and heard it ringing.

_One ring…Two rings_, "_Hey._"

"Hey," I replied, "You have two suits on a collision course, so if you and Sammy want to spend time behind bars, I highly suggest that you two high-tail it out of there."

I heard Dean curse, "Alright, see you soon."

Hanging up the phone, I reached for the keys and turned them in the ignition upon seeing Sam and Dean rounding the back of the warehouse walking casually until an alarm blared across the premises. Both men's eyes grew wide as they sprinted towards the gate, pulling off their jackets in the process before they slung them over the barbwire and climbed over. Reaching back to retrieve his jacket, Dean quickly ran to the passenger side and climbed in, followed by Sam in the backseat.

"Well, these monkey suits do come in handy!" Dean laughed out with a wide grin.

By this time people were mobilizing all over the compound, though, they were mainly heading inside as I put the Impala in gear and tore off away from the warehouse to avoid unwanted attention and detection.

_Airport-Jerry's Office_

Peering through the microscope, my eyes flickered across the yellow granules that Dean and Sam had extracted from the wreckage site. With a purse of my lips, I glanced between the slide in the microscope to the screen that replicated what the microscope saw to ensure what I was looking at. Scrambling through years of biology, chemistry, and physics classes from my days in high school, I nodded to myself, sure of what I saw.

"This stuff's covered in sulfur," I announced, peering up at Jerry, Sam, and Dean.

"You're sure?" Sam asked earning an unamused look from me.

"Am I sure," I stated dryly, "Take a look for yourself." Jerry was about to speak until loud banging sounds emitted from outside the office, followed by a man shouting out, "You effin' piece of crap…!"

An irritated look graced the man's face, "If you guys will excuse me, I have an idiot to fire."

We all nodded as Jerry left, closing the door behind him. Dean stepped over to where I stood, and peered into the microscope at the granules of sulfur. Outside, we heard Jerry yelling at the man.

"Hey. Einstein. Yeah, you. What the heck you doing? Put the wrench down-!"

Ignoring the escapades, Dean hummed thoughtfully, "You know, there's not too many things that leave behind a sulfuric residue."

"Demonic possession?" Sam asked.

I shrugged, "It would explain how a mortal man would have the strength to open up an emergency hatch."

"If the guy was possessed, it's possible," Dean replied before shivering, "This goes way beyond floating over a bed or barfing pea soup."

"I mean it's one thing to possess a person, but to use them to take down an entire airplane?" I asked, shaking my head at the implications.

"You ever heard of something like this before?" Sam asked us.

Dean and I shook our heads in unison, "Never," Dean replied with certainty in his voice.

_Motel_

Sam, Dean, and I sharing a room together meant that room was home base for all research, day or night. On one bed, Sam sat staring intently at his laptop screen with papers strewn out behind him on the bed while in the other, Dean sat reading a book from the stack on the other bed as I tacked up another piece of paper to the collection I had on the wall. There were several printed off images of demonic entities taking place amongst the vast pages of articles found related to what we were searching for. With a frown, I found myself staring at the sketches and paintings, silently mulling over several possibilities.

"So, every religion in every world culture has the concept of demons and demonic possession, right?" Sam spoke, looking from Dean to me in search of an answer, "I mean Christian, Native American, Hindu, you name it."

Dean nodded, "Yeah, but none of them describe anything like this."

I turned from the wall to face Dean and Sam, "Well, that's not exactly true," I said, "If I'm correct, and I'm pretty sure I am," I added with a smug look, "According to Japanese beliefs, certain demons are behind certain disasters," I turned back to the sketches searching for one image in particular, "both natural and man-made."

Sam nodded as if a light bulb had went off in his head, "Yeah, like, one causes earthquakes, another causes disease."

Dean blinked, "And this one causes plane crashes?" Sam and I nodded shortly after he stood up, "Alright, so what?" He closed the book in his hand, tossing it onto the bed, "We have a demon that's evolved with the times and found a way to ratchet up the body count?"

"Yeah," I nodded in confirmation, looking to Sam.

"You know, who knows how many planes it's brought down before this one?" Sam asked, earning a snort from Dean, who turned away from our view began pacing in the gap between the two beds. I looked to Sam with a curious look earning a shrug from him.

"What?" I asked.

Dean shook his head, uneasiness in his voice, "I don't know. This isn't our normal gig." He turned to face us again, "I mean, demons, they don't want anything, just death and destruction for its own sake."

I looked down, running my fingers through my tangled hair, "This is big," I agreed quietly. Part of me was super uneasy about fooling with demons, granted there was nothing easy about vanquishing them nor where there anything easy about looking at them. I shivered out of memory, leaning my body against the wall, feeling the cool plaster against my arms and forehead.

Silence had fallen and I squeezed my eyes shut. I never felt so lost or panicked about a job at all. "I wish Dad was here," I admitted, peering up at Dean and Sam with tears in my eyes, earning the same look from both of them, though Sam's was of worry and Dean's was of doubt and insecurity. Upon seeing the teary eyed look from me, Dean crossed the room to where I was at and pulled me into a reassuring embrace, kissing me softly on the lips and forehead where they firmly stayed, "Yeah, me too." He murmured, glancing up at the ceiling then to Sam, whose worried expression firmly stayed in place.

Deep inside, I knew Dean was riding the fence with me, but I wasn't so sure how close he was to falling off into a state of panic. The calm exterior of Dean Winchester was an expert disguise, though his eyes told a completely different story and I was sure of it. In our moment of silence, I felt the vibrating sensation of his cellphone against my belly before Metallica began to play. Pulling away slightly, Dean reached into his pocket and answered.

"Hello?" He asked. From the close proximity that he and I were in, I could clearly hear the muffled voice of Jerry, "Oh, hey, Jerry." Dean grew silent, as I strained my ears to hear the grim news of Jerry's pilot friend, Chuck Lambert dying. A concerned look crossed Dean's visage, "Wha—Jerry, I'm sorry. What happened?" He took a step away from me just as Jerry began to explain what had happened. I silently cursed wanting to hear it, knowing Sam was curious as to know what is happening as well. I watched intently as Dean asked where the accident happened until a smug look flashed across his once concerned face, "I'll try to ignore the irony in that." Guessing Jerry didn't understand what Dean said, he shook his head, "Nothing. Jerry, hang in there alright? We'll catch up with you soon."

He hung up, looking at the both of us.

"Another crash?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," he confirmed, "Let's go."

"Where?" I asked.

Dean looked at me, "Nazareth."

_Nazareth_

Fifty-five minutes had gone by rather quickly due to Dean's excessive speeding, shaving ten minutes off a would-be hour drive. I glanced at a green sign stating Nazareth was three miles out as it whizzed by before seeing the plume of black smoke in the distance. Nazareth was a quaint little town, nestled between mountains and such. Not precisely nestled like some places in West Virginia, but they were close enough.

Parking a ways away from the wreckage, we made short work of finding whatever downed the small aircraft. With EMFs in tow, Dean had found the same yellow residue like last time.

_Jerry's Office_

Jerry stood over the microscope peering in with Dean behind him, arms crossed and expectant of what Jerry concluded from the newly collected residue. Despite my hundreds of attempts of persuading the thick-skulled man that it was sulfur, he had to make one hundred percent sure.

"Let me guess, sulfur?" Dean asked almost impatiently.

Jerry looked up at us with a nod to confirm, Dean's suspicions. A sour look graced Dean's face.

"Well, that's great." He grumbled out, "Alright, that's two plane crashes involving Chuck Lambert. This demon sounds like it was after him."

"With all due respect to Chuck," I began, my eyes flicking between Sam and Dean, "if that's the case, that would be the good news."

Dean furrowed his brows, "What's the bad news?"

"Chuck's plane went down exactly forty minutes into flight. And get this, so did flight 2485." Sam added.

"Forty minutes? What does that mean?" Jerry asked.

"It's biblical numerology," Dean explained, staring at me. "You know Noah's ark, it rained for forty days. The number means death."

"Abigail and I went back, and there have been six plane crashes over the last decade that all went down exactly forty minutes in." Sam furthered his explanation as well. Like the saying, if the shoe fits, lace the bitch up and wear it.

"Any survivors?" Dean asked. I shook my head, almost in disappointment.

"No. Or not until now, at least, not until flight 2485, for some reason." I replied.

"On the cockpit voice recorder, remember what the EVP Said?" Sam asked.

Dean nodded, "No survivors," he replied before he fell silent in thought, "It's going after all the survivors." He said as he began to pace, "It's trying to finish the job."

_On the road_

With Dean driving, Sam and I were on our cell phones speaking to the remainder of Flight 2485's survivors in an attempt to dissuade them from stepping foot on an airplane anytime soon. Rush's _Working Man_ played lowly on the radio as I hung up from another successful phone call, seeing Sam finishing up his as well.

"Really? Well, thank you for taking our survey." He concluded, "And if you do plan to fly, please don't forget your friends at United Britannia Airlines. Thanks." Sam hung up his cell phone as well, then looked over the crossed out names from the survivor list, "Alright, that takes care of Blaine Sanderson and Dennis Holloway."

I chewed on my cell phone antennae, "They're not flyin' anytime soon."

Dean nodded approvingly, "So our only wildcard is the flight attendant Amanda Walker."

"Right," Sam replied.

"Her sister Karen said her flight leaves Indianapolis at eight pm," I stated, "It's her first night back on the job."

I heard Dean blow out, "That sounds like just our luck." He breathed out in irritation.

Sam looked over at his brother, "Dean, this is a five-hour drive, man, even with you behind the wheel."

Not looking at him, Dean's eyes held fast on the darkened road, "Call Amanda's cellphone again, see if we can't head her off at the pass." He instructed.

I frowned at him, "I've left her _three_ voicemail messages, Dean. She must have her cell phone off."

Sam shook his head up front, "God, we're never gonna make it."

Dean glanced to the both of us, "We'll make it." As he said that, the engine roared louder knowing that Dean had floored it. I was growing uneasy with each passing second, Dean and Sam seemed to be as well. I bit my lip.

_Airport_

Finally making it to the airport with thirty minutes to spare, the three of us wasted no time and jumped out of the Impala. Dean had rushed out, stopping a little ways once he noticed that we weren't moving.

"What?" He asked as Sam arched a brow at him, tossing my pistols into the trunk after I had wrapped them in one of the blankets.

"Really, Dean? We're about to walk into an airport and you're going in like Rambo." I stated earning a groan from Dean and came back, pulling his weapons out, followed by several knives and whatnot before placing them in the trunk as well, "This stinks," he grumped out, "I feel naked."

I shrugged sympathetically at him, exchanging an amused glance with Sam as we all rushed into the crowded building and over to the departure board to see if the plane had left. I pointed to the flight number.

"There," I announced quickly, "Flight four-two-four. They're boarding in thirty minutes."

With a curt nod, Dean looked around, "Okay. We still have some cards to play." He stated casually, "We need to find a phone." Eyeing a courtesy phone a little ways off, he jogged over to it and picked it up, "Hi. Gate thirteen." He paused, "I'm trying to contact an Amanda Walker. She's a flight attendant on flight, um...flight four-two-four."

Seconds passed slowly hearing the announcement go over the intercom system asking for Amanda Walker to a courtesy phone. While we waited, Dean gave us an anxious look until he almost jumped, "Miss Walker. Hi, this is Dr. James Hetfield from St. Francis Memorial Hospital. We have a Karen Walker here." I watched beside Sam as Dean inclined his head, reassuring the presumably worried girl about her sister being 'injured'. We watched on as he paused, his eyes widening as if he got caught in his lie. Dean then smiled sheepishly, "Guilty as charged." Sam walked on the other side of him to hear what Amanda was saying.

"He's really sorry," Dean continued, "Yes, but...he really needs to see you tonight, so—…" he said rather quickly with panic in his voice, "Don't be like that. Come on. The guy's a mess. Really. It's pathetic." I heard him add with a lighthearted chuckle, "Oh yeah." After a moment he became distressed again, "No, no. Wait, Amanda, Amanda!"

Dean hung up the phone roughly, "Damn it, so close!"

_Thank You for flying United Britannia Airlines_, a voice came across the intercoms. Sam and I glanced at each other, hopefully the same light bulb had gone off. Dean looked between us.

"What? I know you two are thinking something." He stated.

Sam looked at him, "Alright, it's time for plan B." Our brother and my boyfriend looked at us lost.

"We're getting on that plane." I stated, seeing him still and the color leave his face.

"Whoa, whoa, just—just hold on a second," Dean said quickly, raising his hand at us.

Sam stared at Dean, "That plane is leaving with over a hundred passengers on board, and if we're right, that plane is gonna crash."

He grimaced, still not moving a muscle, "I know."

I nodded, "Okay, so, we're gettin' on the plane. We need to find that demon and exorcise it." I began to turn, "I'll get the tickets."

Sam nodded in agreement, "Dean and I will get whatever we can out of the trunk that can make it through security."

"We'll meet back here in _five_ minutes." I said sternly, looking at each man. Seeing a thin sheet of sweat coat Dean's face. He looked absolutely terrified. Sam and I looked at him.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked.

Dean tilted his head, "No, not really."

"What? What's wrong?" I asked, growing concerned.

Dean shifted anxiously, "Well, I kind of have this problem with, uh..."

"Flying?" Sam and I asked in unison, giving each other an awkward glance.

"It's never really been an issue until now," He hissed out, waving his arms a bit.

An amused smirk graced my lips "You're joking, right?"

"Do I look like I'm joking? Why do you think I drive everywhere, Abigail?" I glanced to Sam, then back to Dean seeing his eyes widened with fear.

Sam paused, placing his hand on his chin in thought. Dean and I stood there, watching him. Well…I stood there, Dean just fidgeted. Another second passed as Sam looked at us with a shrug, "Alright. Uh, Abigail and I will go."

Dean's eyes widened even more, "What?" He asked, glancing wildly between us both.

"We can do this one on our own," I said reassuringly.

"What are you, nuts? You said it yourself, the plane's gonna crash." Dean said frantically.

"Dean, we can do it together, or I can do this one with Abigail. I'm not seeing a third option, here." Sam said, giving Dean no ultimatum.

"Come on!" He groaned out at Sam, who looked away casually, then to me, as I looked up at the ceiling, "Abs, really?" I heard him whine out. I smirked when he blew out another irritated, yet frantic breath seeing there were no other ways out of it, "Man..."

Sam and I walked together with amused smirks on our faces.

_Flight 424_

I loved flying. I loved every second of it, the bumps, jerks, and that awkward feeling you got every time you hit a bump just right that sent your stomach into your throat and you had to instantly pee. My parents almost always chose to go on jobs via air, stateside or internationally. It was a great feeling. Sitting between Dean and Sam; Dean sitting on the aisle while Sam sat next to the window, I watched Dean with amusement upon feeling the aircraft jerk suddenly after the pilot announced something. My lips stretched out into a grin.

Anxiously, Dean's eyes scanned the safety card describing what to do in case of an emergency landing and whatnot. Sam would glance at him every now and then with a smirk.

"Just try to relax," Sam stated.

The safety card went down as Dean snapped his head at Sam with a deep frown, "Just try to shut up." He snapped as I snickered in Sam's direction. Upon take-off, Dean was white-knuckling the seat's plastic arm as well as mine for dear life, jumping at every rumble, pop, jerk the plane had to offer. I didn't think I'd get so much amusement out of my oh-so-fearless boyfriend, the great Dean Winchester. I glanced over to Sam, who was smirking at his brother.

As soon as the plane had taken off, the timer was set for forty-five minutes. Sam and I were sitting relatively calm, talking about random things and laughing over distant memories of yesteryear while Dean leaned back in his chair, still white-knuckling the chair and my hand-that had long since gone numb-and humming a certain Metallica song. Sam arched a brow, looking over at him.

"Are you humming Metallica?" I asked Dean, running my fingertips lightly against his hand in a calming manner.

He glanced at me with fear swirling in his eyes, "Calms me down."

"Look, man, I get you're nervous, all right? But you got to stay focused." Sam assured.

"Okay," he breathed out, making an effort to calm himself down. Squeezing his eyes shut as I continued to stroke his hand with my fingertips.

"I mean, we got thirty-two minutes and counting to track this thing down, or whoever it's possessing, anyway, and perform a full-on exorcism." Sam continued in a hushed tone.

"Yeah, on a crowded plane," Dean replied dryly, "That's gonna be easy." His voice was coated in thick sarcasm.

"Just take it one step at a time, alright?" I said with a soft smile, my amusement was now dwindled down by the announcement of how much time was gone. Feeling Dean's grip on my hand loosen by a smidge, I glanced around my surroundings at the nearby passengers, "Now, who is it possessin'?"

"It's usually gonna be somebody with some sort of weakness," Dean began, "you know, a chink in the armor that the demon can worm through." I smiled at Dean as he began to overcome his irrational fear, "Somebody with an addiction or some sort of emotional distress."

Sam nodded, glancing around as well, "Well, this is Amanda's first flight after the crash. If I were her, I'd be pretty messed up."

Dean nodded, _"Mhmm._" A rather attractive flight attendant with blonde hair passed by our seats, he looked up at her, "Excuse me," he said, stopping her. She smiled down at him, "Are you Amanda?"

The blonde smiled gently at him, "No, I'm not."

Dean smiled apologetically, "Oh, my mistake." For the first time in a long while, Dean Winchester did not flirt with an attractive woman. I sat there beside him, looking from him to the walking flight attendant, then back to him—flabbergasted. He must be really scared to not flirt with something with two legs and a vagina.

I took note of his breathing. It was still considerably fast, but nothing like it was. He had calmed down, and for that feat, I was proud of him. Taking a moment, I gently placed a hand on the left side of his face. He slowly moved his head to look at me, taking the opportunity to place a soft, reassuring kiss upon his lips. Feeling his body loosen up, he kissed back rather frantically before he pulled back staring into my eyes with an apologetic look.

"It's okay," I whispered to him.

He nodded slowly, clasping my hand and gave it a soft, yet firm, squeeze. Dean sighed, before leaned over his seat to look at the back of the plane seeing another blonde. Sitting in his seat, he turned towards us, "Alright, well that's got to be Amanda back there, so I'll go talk to her, and, uh, I'll get a read on her mental state."

Sam looked at him, "What if she's already possessed?"

"There's ways to test that," Dean said, leaning forward and reached for the duffel bag in front of him, bringing out a Virgin Mary-shaped bottle of water with a grin, "I brought holy water."

Sam frowned, "No." He snatched the bottle from Dean, tucking it into his hoodie earning a bewildered look from Dean.

"I think we can go more subtle. If she's possessed, she'll flinch at the name of God." I added, trying to defuse an oncoming argument between brothers.

Dean nodded, "Oh. Nice." He began to stand up.

"Hey," Sam said quickly as Dean turned to him.

"What?"

"Say it in Latin." Sam reminded him.

Dean placed a hand on his chest in mock-exasperation, "I know." He answered quickly, heading up the aisle.

I jumped, "Hey!" I half-way yelled and whispered to Dean, who grumbled and spun around.

"What?!" he snapped.

I smiled sheepishly at him, "Uh, in Latin, it's _Christo_."

"Dude, I know! I'm not an idiot!" He countered before making his way to the back of the plane while Sam and I watched on as he thumped into a seat after the plane shook. I heard him whine something out upon impact. Sitting in our seats, Sam and I waited. Moments ticked by as Dean made his way back with a sigh, plopping back into his seat, "Well, she's got to be the most well-adjusted person on the planet."

I blinked, "You said, _Christo?_"

Dean nodded, "Yeah."

"And?" Sam urged.

He narrowed his eyes at us, "There's no demon in her. There's no demon _getting _in her."

"So, if it's on the plane, it can be anyone. Anywhere." I murmured as the plane began to shake once again from turbulence.

"Come on! That can't be normal!" Dean said, obviously freaked out, instantly gripping the seat.

I placed my hand on his, "Hey, hey, it's just a little turbulence."

Dean snapped his head at me, "Abigail, this plane is going to crash, okay?" he hissed out, "So quit treating me like I'm friggin' four."

I steeled at Dean's curtness towards me, "You need to calm down," I said lowly to the point where it rumbled in my throat.

"Well, I'm sorry I can't." He replied, a hidden apology showing in his eyes.

Sam shook his head at him, "Yes, you can."

"Dude, stow the touchy-feel, self-help yoga crap," Dean lashed out at Sam this time, "it's not helping."

Sam leaned over me, his eyes steeling over much like John's whenever he chewed us out, "Listen, if you're panicked, you're wide open to demonic possession, so you need to calm yourself down." He said firmly, "Right now."

Dean and I looked at Sam with wide eyes. _Where did that come from?_

Reconciling, Dean took in a long, deep breath, then slowly let it out.

Sam nodded, "Good. Now, Abigail found an exorcism in here that I think is gonna work."

"The Rituale Romanum," I stated, knowing my drawl butchered the elegant words.

Dean nodded, "What do we have to do?"

Sam flipped to the exorcism in John's journal, "It's two parts. The first part expels the demon from the victim's body. It makes it manifest, which actually makes it more powerful."

"_More_ powerful?" Dean asked, blinking several times, trying to mull over what Sam had said.

I nodded, "Yeah, it doesn't need to possess someone anymore," I explained casually, "It can wreak havoc on its own."

Dean gaped at me, "Oh, and why is that a good thing?"

Looking at the distressed man, I smirked, "Because the second part sends the bastard back to hell. And he stays."

Dean nodded, "First things first, we got to find it."

Sam and I nodded.

Getting out of his seat with his 'walkman' in tow, Dean slowly walked up the aisle with his EMF meter, ignoring the odd looks from the passengers around him. I remained in my seat when Sam got up, patting my shoulder as he left and came up behind his brother, scaring him. I snickered until the copilot had stepped out of the bathroom ahead.

My breath hitched in my throat upon seeing the creature residing in him. The color in my face drained as quickly as it stalked out.

_How did I not see that?!_ I screeched out in my mind. In no time, I was on my feet and making my way to where Dean and Sam stood in the aisle. Dean caught sight of me and turned, followed by Sam.

"What? What is it?" Sam asked, looking at me. My eyes stayed on the copilot, Dean catching on and looked at him as well.

My breathing shuddered, "_Christo_."

I watched the creature stiffen and slowly turned, staring back at us. What Dean and Sam saw was simply the copilot with coal-black eyes. What I saw would deem any horror movie ever made a laughable comedy flick. Yellow teeth bared back at me in a snarl before the creature went back into the cockpit. Sam and Dean looked at me, unnerved.

"Son of a bitch," Dean cursed from beside me, turning to look at the back of the plane to where Amanda Walker was at. Without hesitating, he began to make his way to the back.

"_Dean_, she isn't going to believe us," I told him, glancing at the blonde.

"Twelve minutes!" He said frantically as we reached the back.

Amanda spotted us "Oh, hi," she greeted us with a smile, "Flight's not too bumpy for you, I hope."

"Actually, that's kind of what we need to talk to you about." He said as Sam closed the curtain. Amanda gave us a wary look at the gesture.

"Um, okay. What can I do for you?"

"Alright, this is gonna sound nuts, but we just don't have time for the whole "the truth is out there" speech right now." Dean spoke quickly.

"Alright, look, we know you were on flight 2485." Sam said.

Amanda's smile disappeared, "Who are you guys?"

"Now, we've spoken to some of the other survivors. We know something brought down that plane and it wasn't a mechanical failure." I added calmly; though my still paled face clearly said otherwise.

Dean cast me a wary glance, "We need your help because we need to stop it from happening again. Here. Now."

Amanda backed up, unnerved from the frightening news, "I'm sorry, I—I'm very busy. I have to go back—," she tried to brush past Dean to go back to work, or possibly contact some form of authorities on board.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a second." He said quickly, "I'm not gonna hurt you, okay? But listen to me, uh...The pilot in 2485, Chuck Lambert. He's dead."

The flight attendant's face paled, "Wait. What? What, Chuck is dead?"

"He died in a plane crash. Now, that's two plane crashes in two months. That doesn't strike you as strange?"

She stuttered, in search for words.

"Look, there was something wrong with 2485. Now maybe you sensed it, maybe you didn't. But there's something wrong with this flight, too." Sam stated with urgency.

I glanced over my shoulder towards the cockpit, then back to Amanda, "You have to believe us."

"On...on 2485, there was this man. He...had these eyes." Amanda recalled, looking at us with wide eyes.

I nodded, "Yes. That's exactly what we're talking about."

Amanda shook her head, "I don't understand, what are you asking me to do?"

Dean stepped closer to her, "Okay. The copilot, we need you to bring him back here."

She gave him a skeptical glance, "Why? What does he have to do with anything?"

"Don't have time to explain. We just need to talk to him. Okay?"

"How am I supposed to go in the cockpit and get the copilot—?" Amanda asked.

Sam urged her, "Do whatever it takes. Tell him there's something broken back here, whatever will get him out of that cockpit."

"Do you know that I could lose my job if you—," she said as Dean cut her off.

"Okay, well you're gonna lose a lot more if you don't help us out." He said sternly.

For a moment, she hesitated and I held my breath. Finally Amanda nodded, "Okay." She took a deep breath in order to collect herself before she went to the front, knocking on the door to the cockpit.

I watched quietly when Sam pulled the bottle of holy water from his hoodie while Dean pulled the journal, handing it to me. I opened it to the exorcism just as the copilot stepped into the small area. Instantly, I began to tremble being this close to the demon. I _so_ wasn't used to this. I fumbled with the pages.

"Yeah, what's the problem?" It growled out.

Dean blindsided the copilot/demon, knocking him down and pinned him, placing duct tape over his mouth. Amanda stared at Dean with a gaping mouth.

"Wait. What are you doing? You said you were just gonna talk to him." She said frantically.

He looked up at her, breathing hard against the struggling creature, "We are gonna talk to him." He took the holy water from Sam, splashing the liquid onto the copilot/demon's shirt, the sound of sizzling emitting when his shirt ate away like acid.

"Oh, my god. What's wrong with him?" Amanda breathed out, freaked.

I stood, trembling and waiting to begin, as well as controlling my breathing. I glanced to Sam, who nodded.

"Look," he began calmly, "We need you calm. We need you outside the curtain." Sam instructed.

Amanda looked between the three of us, "Well, I don't underst—I don't know—,"

Sam held her shoulders, "Don't let anybody in, okay? Can you do that? Can you do that? Amanda?"

Blinking wildly, she nodded, "Okay. Okay."

Dean grunted, glancing up at me, against the struggling demon, "Hurry up, Abigail. I don't know how much longer I can hold him."

I inhaled deeply, "_Regna terrae, cantate Deo, psallite Domino_—," The next thing I knew the wind got knocked out of me when the demon had broken free of Dean's hold momentarily. Sam and Dean were on him, subduing the creature quickly. I shook my head to clear my thoughts, continuing the ritual. Once again, the demon had broken free of Dean and Sam's grasp, pulling off the tape and grabbed Sam by the collar.

"I know what happened to your girlfriend!" He snarled out, "She must have died screaming! Even now, she's burning!" Sam and I stared at the creature, stunned when Dean recovered from the hit.

"Sam! Abigail!" He snapped out.

I looked at Dean, nodding and picked up from where I left off. Sam blinked, and helped his brother restrain the demon once again until it kicked me in the legs, sending me to the floor where I dropped the book.

Dean looked at me with wide eyes.

Sam pinned his weight on the creature, "I got him."

The copilot's body arched in an unnatural angle when a plume of black smoke exited his mouth and into a vent. Dean and Sam slowly stood up, looking around the cabin wildly.

"Where'd it go?" Sam asked.

"It's in the plane," Dean answered, "Abs, hurry up. We got to finish it." I looked around the floor for the journal and cursed.

The two men looked at me, "What?"

"I dropped the damned book!" I hissed out, rising to my feet. Sam stopped me.

"I'll get it. Stay here." Sam instructed, that look of resolution simmering in his eyes. Saying nothing, I merely nodded just as the plane dipped and heaved violently, throwing Sam forward into the cabin with the passengers. Dean splayed himself against an exit door, _screaming_. As in, little girl scream. I had steadied myself, staring at Dean with wide eyes. He stared back at me, paler than a sheet of paper; still screaming.

"Sammy!" I yelled out over the screams and loud howling of the wind from outside of the plane, "Hurry up!" Another jolt and I felt myself lunge forward violently, feeling Dean catch me in the process. He wrapped his arms around me tightly, eyes squeezed shut in fear. Amongst the chaos, I could feel his heart hammering in his chest. It honestly felt like an eternity when the plane slowly leveled itself out.

By this time, my heart was hammering in my chest. Dean's tight grip around me loosened, though he stepped back to inspect me with wide eyes and trembling hands. I nodded in silence, tears welling up in my eyes when he kissed me deeply. He broke it, eyes staring into mine, "I love you."

I nodded, "I love you too, Dean." I blew out a shaky breath, "Sammy did it."

The two of us poked our heads out from behind the curtain, seeing the passengers asking each other if they were alright. Sam rose to his feet in the aisle before he turned to us, smiling seeing that we were unscathed and we smiled back. He would've been amused hearing Dean emitting a very emasculating, yet very girlish scream. But, now wasn't the time to bring that up.

Jesus Christ. I wanted off this plane probably as bad as Dean, and it couldn't have landed any sooner.

Doing an emergency landing, paramedics were helping people off the plane and into the terminal. One paramedic had me go down the inflatable slides. Reaching the bottom, I slowly stood up feeling my knees go weak nor did I feel good. All I know is that it felt _great _to be on solid ground. Standing on the tarmac, I awaited Dean and Sam, who were approaching me. Dean, however, scooped me up in his arms and twirled me around in a tight embrace, allowing my feet to touch the ground as he planted a deep kiss, bowing me backwards.

Sam rolled his eyes at us, though from the look on his face, he was glad that we, along with everyone else, made it out alright. Something about him wasn't alright though. He seemed unnerved.

Sam, Dean and I stood off to the sidelines as various uniformed agents of all sorts rushed by us. The copilot, who was sitting in a wheelchair with a blanket wrapped around him, looked up at the FAA agent bewildered, catching snippets of the questioning.

"Sir, can you tell me what happened?" The agent asked him.

The copilot shook his head, "I don't know," he answered, "I was walking through the airport, then it all goes blank. I don't even remember getting on the plane."

In front of us, Amanda was being questioned by another agent, FBI from the looks of it.

"Anything else?" He asked.

Amanda shook her head, "No, that's all." She looked away from him, spotting us and mouthed, _Thank you_. Not speaking, we nodded.

Dean wrapped his arm around my shoulder, "Let's get out of here."

Not hesitating, we headed for the exit. Sam and I were silent for different reasons. He nudged me.

"You okay?" he asked me. I looked at him with a small smile.

"Yeah," I replied, "I'm alright. Kinda put off of planes for the time bein'." I cracked a smile at him and he gave me a sour look before glancing ahead to Sam.

"Hey." Dean called out. Sam stopped and turned, "Are _you_ okay?"

Sam looked so conflicted, "It knew about Jessica."

Dean let his arm fall from my shoulders as he approached his brother, placing a hand on his, "Sam, these things, they," he shook his head, "they read minds. They _lie_. Alright? That's all it was."

Sam nodded, "Yeah."

I came up to my not-so-little brother, wrapping my arms around his waist, "Come on." I said with a smile, "I have some beef to tell you." Dean blinked at me, then pursed his lips.

"Oh, you better not tell him what I think you're gonna tell him!" He threatened me.

Sam arched his brow, "What?"

"Abigail!" Dean growled.

I grinned wickedly at him, patting Sam's back, "Sammy-boy, Dean here is quite the soprano, if you catch my drift." Dean gaped, getting red in the face. Sam's brows rose, looking over at his older brother, "I mean, with a little work, I think we can get him into the opera." Sam began laughing, wrapping his arm around me as we all walked into the terminal to retrieve us a rental car, since flying was now out of the question.

_Airport_

Jerry stood in front of us with a grateful look in his eyes, "Nobody knows what you guys did, but I do." He looked to each of us, "A lot of people could have been killed." Reaching out his hand, Dean and Sam each returned the favor shaking it, as he then pulled me into an embrace, "Take care of yourself, Abigail. You couldn't have asked for any better people."

I smiled, "I know," looking over my shoulder at Dean and Sam, I then grinned, "And I think they know too." I stepped back in between Sam and Dean, who had wrapped an arm around my waist.

"Your Dad's gonna be real proud," he stated.

Sam nodded, "We'll see you around, Jerry."

Not saying a word, Dean and I turned to leave, then stopped, "You know, Jerry." Dean began, looking at him.

"Yeah." He replied.

"I meant to ask you, how did you get my cellphone number, anyway? I've only had it for like, six months."

"Your dad gave it to me," Jerry replied.

Our mouths dropped. _What? When?_

"What?" Sam and I asked in unison.

Dean furrowed his brows, "When did you talk to him?"

Jerry shrugged sheepishly, "I mean, I didn't exactly talk to him, but I called his number. His voice message said to give you a call." He nodded to us again, "Thanks again, guys." He then turned, leaving us behind to dwell in the news of our dad.

We were parked just outside the airport access, Sam, Dean, and I leaning against the Impala.

Sam shook his head, fuming, "This doesn't make any sense, man. I've called Dad's number like, fifty times. It's been out of service."

I looked to Dean quietly as he dialed John's number. He then put it on speakerphone for us to hear. Upon hearing John's voice, tears began to well in my eyes, "_This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son, Dean. 785-555-0179. He can help._" By the time the recording had ended, I was wiping tears away. Saying nothing and obviously angered, Sam got in the car. Dean pulled me into an embrace, resting his head against mine.

"We're going to find, Dad." He assured me.

"I know we are." I whispered. Dean nodded, looking me up and down, then stepped back, holding open the driver side door for me. Sliding in the middle, Dean got in after me, turning the ignition. As the Impala roared to life, we drove off in silence, music beginning to play across the radio.

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**Hope you guys enjoyed it! I may or may not do Bloody Mary, but if ya'll would like for me to, send me some ideas! My reason for this is that I don't really want that chapter (or any chapter) become anti-climactic or awkward. I may even do this as a flashback! Who knows? But everyone is more than welcome to throw out suggestions/requests/tips! (:**


	8. West Virginia, Mountain Momma

**Hello loves! I decided ****_not_**** to post Bloody Mary. I believe it will come back as a flashback at some point in the series given if I can come up with ideas for it. This chapter however, is 100% free-handed and I was winging it. So please, please, ****_please_**** don't beat me if Dean or Sam didn't come off as their character. I tried, I really did.**

**I just want to forewarn everyone that there ****_is_**** some smut action within this chapter. This is not a mandatory chapter, you ****_can_**** skip it when I come out with the next one. And I apologize for future references if the scene comes off as awkward or anything. I have been out of the loop for. A. While.**

**Just a reminder, I accept any form of requests, suggestions, tips, etc. for future chapters! So if you have an idea, a scene from a show/movie that you'd love to see Dean and Miss Abigail re-enact, you know what to do! (;**

**So if there is anything wrong, awkward, anything like that, just let me know!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the ****_Supernatural_**** fanchise. This chapter, Abigail, and future non-canon characters will most likely be mine. **

**Please enjoy! (:**

* * *

_On the highway_

_February 19th, 2006_

It had been a couple of weeks since the incident on Flight 424. Sam and I have teased Dean nonstop over his performance of 'singing soprano', though I equally got backlash of having rabies much to my chagrin. Jerry had been our only _new_ lead on our Dad, making tensions rise between Sam and Dean. Sometimes it would fall back and cause tensions between Dean and me as well. Living with two temperamental men was rough. It made PMS seem like a godsend at times.

I still didn't sleep well. Mostly the nightmares were just freaky, unrealistic dreams of unholy alliances, hell on earth; the kind of dreams you got when you ate the wrong stuff before bed. A frown pulled at my lips, bringing my thumb to my mouth as I chewed the skin around my nail watching the flat, arid landscape of Arizona fly by in silence. Dean didn't have the music on, which was a first, and Sam wasn't complaining. It was just, quiet. I think all of us were bored out of our minds, worried, and wished something would just fall into our hands.

My cell phone buzzed all of a sudden bringing me out of my thoughts as my _Enter Sandman_ ringtone came to life. Sam and Dean both looked to me in curiosity as I fumbled in the footboard, pulling it out of my jacket pocket and glanced at the number. I frowned at it, not recognizing the number.

"Hel-_lo_?" I answered.

"'s this Abigail?" a gruff, drawl asked, "Abigail Colt?"

I blinked a few times, taking the phone from my ear and looked at the number again, "Uh, _yeah_, but…how'd you get this number?" I asked placing the phone to my ear again and looked to Dean, who was peering at me through the rearview. His brows where furrowed with concern as to wondering how someone had gotten a hold of my number.

The gruff voice chuckled, "You don't know who this is, do ya?"

"Not particularly, no." I admitted, feeling kind of bad about it.

"'s your uncle Charlie," the voice replied with a smile behind it, "Your daddy's brother?"

A grin played at my lips, making me sit up straighter in my seat, "_Charlie_?" I let out a genuine laugh of joy, "How the hell are ya?"

Charlie belly laughed on the other line, "I'm doing a'ight, Abby-girl. How've you been? Them Winchester boys treatin' you good?"

I rolled my eyes to no one in particular with a smile, "You know they are, Charlie."

"Good," he replied, "I'd hate for John to halfta hate me for beatin' on 'em."

I pulled my phone away from my ear, pressing the speakerphone, "You're on speakerphone, Charlie." I spoke a little louder than usual as I leaned forward to let Sam or Dean talk without having to yell. Dean however just mouthed,_you have an uncle?_

I nodded. I never saw him so lost before.

"Oh, joy!" he replied in false-sarcasm. Sam smiled, twisting his body towards me.

"Hey Charlie," Sam said, "How've you been?"

"Who's speakin'?" Charlie asked.

"Sam?" He said, with a laugh. Dean kept glancing between Sam and me in confusion.

"_Oh_! Little Sammy! How the hell are ya?" Charlie shouted, thinking that he had to be loud. We winced a little bit.

Sam laughed, "I'm doing alright, you uh, wouldn't happen to know if you saw Dad or anything would you?"

"John?" Charlie asked, humming in thought, "Yeah, now that I think of it…I think I saw him about two months or so ago, run into him on a hunt."

Dean, Sam, and I looked at each other, mouths opened in shock. _How did we not know this?!_

"Any reason you didn't call and tell me, Charlie?" I asked in shock.

The sound of Charlie blowing out a sigh crackled into the phone, "To be honest, Abby-girl, John asked me not to." I furrowed my brows at no one in particular, "He gave me your number and told me to call you, since your birthday is tomar' an all."

When Charlie had said that, I smacked my head against the back of the front seat remembering it was _my birthday_. How could I forget? Dean and Sam looked at me—Dean more so with the same look that he had forgotten as well, while Sam looked a little amused. They both knew I hated my birthday. To me, I just saw itas another day in a hunter's world. "You guys should ride up and stay a while if ye ain't busy." Charlie added.

I gazed at Sam and Dean seeking guidance. I didn't want a celebration, but if he knew something about Dad's whereabouts, it would help. They nodded, hopefully thinking the same thing.

"We've been in a rut for about two weeks; I don't see why we couldn't…" I began before being cut off.

"Great! You 'member where I live right?" He cut in without hesitation.

"Uh, yeah," I said slowly.

Charlie laughed, "You get here, you'll be in for a treat."

That's when I got worried, "Charlie, don't do anything for my birthday. _Please_." I groaned out, "It's just another day."

"Ah, nonsense, Abby," Charlie said, "You get up here, we'll do some pickin', singin', drinkin', and eatin' for sure. I haven't seen ye since you were eighteen, you're what now?"

I blew out a sigh, "Twenty-six."

"_Eight_ years, Abigail." He said in a state of awe, "Come up here and take a load off."

"Alright!" I said a little irritated and heard him laughing, "We're on our way."

"Great! Where ye at so I have an idea how long it'd be?"

I glanced up at Dean, "I uh, think we're outside…Roswell?" Dean nodded, the look on his told me he was still trying to wrap his mind over me having an uncle and that he had seen our dad recently.

"You should be here in twenty-one hours then with minimal stops, right?" He asked.

"Uh, yeah…We'll be there sometime tomorrow give or take. I'll see you then." I replied.

"Be careful, Abby-girl, don't get abducted or anythin'." I closed my phone with a sigh dropping it into my boot and reclined back in my seat. Sam and Dean had fallen silent. Someone knew and seen Dad, but didn't bother to call us? I felt bad enough that it was someone we knew, let alone it being my only living relative. Stepping foot into West Virginia was unsettling to me to a point. Seeing my family again made me flat out nervous.

"I can't believe Charlie saw Dad and didn't bother telling us," Sam stated in disbelief. He looked at me with confusion pooling in his eyes.

I shook my head in disbelief as well, "I don't know about you, but it just seems like Dad's not wanting us to find him." I flicked my hand, "I don't get that."

"Well, maybe he'll have some answers for us when we get there," Dean said looking up through the rearview with a calm look. I knew he was agitated about the news, we all were. "Who is this Charlie anyways?"

A smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth, giving Sam an amused look, "Charlie is my dad's twin." I answered.

"How does Sam know him and not me?" Dean asked with a frown.

"Because you were too busy doing that _five states, five days_ thing at the time and that was when I had Sam with me on a hunt," I replied seeing a look of guilt flash across his face. In reassurance, I placed my hand on his shoulders, applying a gentle squeeze. He brought a hand up to my left, squeezing mine in return. I think it wounded him not knowing my uncle or even knowing that I had one, while Sam did.

_West Virginia-Putnam County_

_February 20__th__, 2006_

Twenty-one hours was not only exhausting, it was boring. Around Saint Louis, Missouri, Dean and Sam had swapped out throughout the night due to Dean nearly falling asleep at the wheel. Outside ofCharleston, Dean was fast asleep in the backseat with one arm wrapped around my thigh as I cradled his head in my lap running my fingers through his hair soothingly while I watched the various streetlights flash by. I yawned deeply, catching Sam's attention.

"Have you slept any?" Sam asked quietly, peering at me.

"I think three hours," I shrugged tiredly, "pretty good to me."

We ran through a patch of highway that wasn't illuminated in lights. The only light source being the lights in the dashboard, as it illuminated Sam's face casting an eerie glow. I heard him blow out a sigh, "Not good enough," he mumbled watching the road. Deep inside, I knew Sam was concerned about my sleeping habits._I_ was concerned about my sleeping habits. I let out a soft sigh, looking down at my sleeping boyfriend quietly, I continued to stroke his hair.

"Sammy, I don't know what is going on with me," I admitted, "I can sleep good for a couple of days, then just like that, I can't sleep because I get so overwhelmed with these nightmares." I shook my head lightly, "And us going back into West Virginia? I'm nervous. I've tried to stay away from there because I don't want to remember it."Sam had stayed quiet, eyes frontward towards the road. The radio had been turned off long since Dean had dozed off. Leaning over, Sam reached out and switched it onto a country station.

"Hey," I started, seeing Sam glance up at me, "Do me a favor?"

"Sure," Sam replied.

"Next gas station you see, pull in and grab some food and some coffee if you don't care," I said, "I'm starving and I need coffee."

Sam chuckled, "Abigail, as much as coffee as you drink, it's beginning to sound like you have an addiction."

"Better than smoking." I retorted with a lop-sided grin as Dean stirred, nuzzling my leg with the side of his face. I looked down at him with a soft smile when he flipped onto his back, bringing his left leg up and allowed his right leg to rest on the floorboard; crossing his arms. I gently brushed my fingers down his face feeling his stubble scratch against my fingertips. He leaned his head into my touch, slowly opening his eyes, looking up at me tiredly. I smiled sheepishly at him, "Hey you."

He stared for a moment before a tired smile crossed his lips, "Hey you."

"I didn't wake you, did I?" I asked. Dean shook his head continuing to stare up at me with those dazzling eyes of his, bringing up a hand caressing my face gently. Reba Macintire's rendition of _Fancy _began to play across the radio and I grinned, starting to sing along. Dean rolled his eyes playfully, pulling himself into a sitting position with a grunt.

"Twelve years and I _still_ don't have you sold on the oldies," Dean muttered throwing me a wink as I playfully pushed him in mock rolled his eyes from up front, spotting a Speedway and flipped the blinker on. We pulled in beside a pump as we piled out, all stretching our legs and arms. I let out another yawn, closing the car door behind me, turning to look at Dean and Sam, credit card in hand, "You guys want anything? My treat."

Rounding the Impala, Dean came up to me, pulling me into his arms as he gave me a rather deep kiss, dipping me. It threw me off guard resulting in me letting out a soft moan when we straightened up. He pulled away with a lustful glint in his eyes, and grinned at me, "Happy Birthday, babe," Dean said before turning. I stood by the Impala stunned, blinking like an idiot as he walked towards the convenient store holding my credit card up between his fingers, "And it's going to be _my _treat." He added.

I folded my arms into a pout, "But I wanted to buy."

Sam chuckled at me, getting the nozzle from the pump, "I thought you wanted me to get it."

"Yeah, but that was because I was kinda being used as a pillow," I replied running a hand through my hair, "You still remember where Charlie lives?"

He nodded, "Yeah."

I smirked, "Good, 'cause Dean will have us lost in no time."

Sam seemed a little aggravated about something. He glanced at me, "Abigail," he began, "Promise me you won't get mad at me after I say this."

Smiling softly, I nodded, "Promise."

"I don't think we should go to Charlie's," he said and I frowned, "Don't get me wrong, I like the guy and all, but…" he shook his head, "I think we should just skip it and look for Dad."

"Sam, that's why I want to go to Charlie's. He's the second person to see him and probably knows where Dad was heading to," I said, "I don't want no surprise parties, I don't want anything done for my birthday, 'cause I know that's what he's going to do." My gaze fell upon my hands, "I just want to find Dad and us be a family again."

He looked down at the nozzle quietly, "I know…"

I tilted my head sideways at my brother, "Maybe get you started back in college again," I said, "Get you to be that big lawyer man."

Sam looked at me in awe, "You think I should go back?"

I shrugged, "I think you should do whatever you want," I looked at the familiar mountains of West Virginia as the sun rose; the sky a swirl of oranges, pinks, and blues, "Dean and I are too deep into the business, but you Sammy," I smiled at him, "you got out of the cycle. You still have a chance."

He smiled at me, looking back down, "Thanks…but, I don't know if I want to go back since…" he inhaled sharply at the memory of Jessica's death. I nodded, understanding; hearing the bell from the convenient store's doors ring. I looked over my shoulder to see Dean walking out, holding two coffees, a bag of food, and a pop. He smiled, approaching us. Handing me one of the coffees, he handed Sam the other one. Sam nodded in thanks, taking the nozzle out of the Impala and placed it back onto the holder, noticing that he wasn't going to take anything out of the bag.

"You gonna eat with us or are you still tryin' to watch your girlish figure?" Dean asked, peeling open a small apple pie wrapper and took a large bite, making him look like chipmunk. From the look he gave Dean, I sniggered.

"Guys, I'm not trying to watch anything," Sam tried to explain for the millionth time, "Besides, it's called being healthy. I don't see how you two are still able to run."

Dean and I exchanged a look, "I don't see anything wrong," I chirped, opening a bag of _Munchos_ and popped one of those delicious chips into my mouth with an audible crunch, followed by a large slug of coffee. Sam sighed at us with a shake of his head. I grinned at my brother. He was so moody.

_Charlie Colt's Home_

Dean stared in awe at the size of Charlie's plantation inspired home at the top of a steep mountain. It was just like my old place, though my house was more of a lodge. Pulling up the long driveway, we passed through the security gates that I knew were outlined in iron throughout the entire perimeter. Two large barns were on the property; one that had horses presumably, while the other was used for storage, that is if I remembered correctly. Barking was heard from two large dogs that had pit bull appearances cause Dean to squirm in the backseat beside me.

"I forget sometimes that you used to be loaded," Dean stated.

I arched a brow at him, "I'm _still_ loaded, Dean…I just don't have access to it since I'm dead and all." Sam pulled to a stop outside the house. I got out, looking at my uncle's place; feeling my heart start to pound in nervousness. Blowing out a breath, I told myself that I could do this. In no time, the smell of a barbeque greeted me; my stomach growling.

Sam looked at me in disbelief, "You're _still_ hungry?"

I shrugged innocently at Sam, hearing the front door open, "Abby-girl!"

My head turned to the source of my name and saw Charlie with a toothy and beardy grin. I grinned widely at him, "Charlie!" I said. He came down the steps, meeting me. Charlie placed his hands on my shoulders, looking at me with a smile.

"Lord girl, you've grown up on me," he said pulling me into a strong hug, "You look so much like Avery." He added softly.

I nodded, smiling sadly at him, "Thanks…" He stared at me for a long moment, then caught sight of Sam and Dean, as they stood by the Impala.

"Sammy! Dean!" Charlie said with a grin, "C'mere and let me look at you!"

Sam and Dean exchanged a confused glance, before approaching us. Charlie clapped Sam on the shoulder laughing, "Well, Hell's bells, you're a modern-day giant ain't ya?" Sam looked a bit embarrassed, though he laughed lightly at my uncle. Dean sniggered at Sam squirming until Charlie had him in his sights. He shifted, "You must be Dean," Charlie looked him up and down, "I expected you to be taller."

Dean chuckled, "Great things come in small packages, Charlie."

Charlie crossed his arms, overlooking him while he ran a hand over his beard, "Touché," he turned to me, "I like him."

I grinned, "I would at least hope so," I replied when Dean sagged with relief. I've seen Dean squirm over the thought of having to meet a girl's family, and it was amusing. He still squirmed under Charlie's gaze, and it was _still_ amusing.

"Charlie!" I heard a woman's voice call out. Dean and I turned to look and see an attractive woman come out from the house. Dean grinned at her with an appreciative look on his face, as he stepped beside me, "You didn't tell me Abigail was gonna be here this early!" The woman smiled at me sweetly as she descended the steps.

Charlie smiled sheepishly at the woman, "Sorry, babe."

The woman embraced me in a hug then stepped back, "Hi, I'm Kara."

I smiled at her, "Well, you already know me, but this is Dean and Sam Winchester, my brothers."

She looked at them, smiling, "Nice to meet you, Sam and Dean, how long are ya'll staying? Charlie and I have so many things planned out for Abigail's birthday."

I gaped at them in shock. _No!_

"Oh, really now?" Dean said, interested.

Kara smiled, "Yeah! I was going to take her out for a girl's day, you know, shopping and things."

I let out an uncomfortable laugh, "Thanks for the offer, but, I'm good on the shopping trip and whatnot." Kara cocked her head with a confused look. From the look Sam and Dean had on their faces, they were eating this up! I guess it was my turn to squirm.

"Aw, nonsense!" Charlie said, "It's your birthday today, least you can let us do is give you something to remember!"

I furrowed my brows, "That's not necessary, I'm fine right here."

Kara smiled, "Oh, come on, everything will be open around nine, we'll get you some nice outfits, take you out to get a mani-pedi, and tonight we can do whatever you want." I shifted uncomfortably at the thought of being primped, then focused on Kara's swollen stomach. My eyes widened in confusion, drifting up to Charlie, who gave me a look that told me he'd explain later. I felt Dean's hand take hold of mine putting me at ease instantly, I glanced to him and smiled softly.

_Inside_

Walking in, the interior of Charlie's house was incredibly different as opposed to the house's exterior. It had a rustic feel to it, much like how my old home was. The entrance was tiled, walls covered in different colored wood planks; various items of old farming equipment lining the walls as well as old photos caught my eye. Dean and Sam stared in amazement, mostly stunned by how nice everything was until we entered the living area. It had a nice layout, it was vast and open; couches were placed neatly in front of a large cobblestone fireplace with several taxidermy heads of elk and deer.

"This place is freaking amazing," Dean spoke, taking everything in while Sam inspected the large bookcase beside the fireplace. Sam looked impressed at the collection of legends, bibles, and other books that had to do with religion and monsters. I wandered around, bag in tow.

Charlie smiled, "Make yerselves at home," he said, "We'll give you the grand tour."

"The extra bedrooms are up on the second floor, there are at least four master bedrooms with full bathrooms in them." Kara began, placing a hand on her large stomach, "The kitchen is behind that door," She said pointing towards a barn-door inspired double-door, "Ya'll are more than welcome to get whatever you like." My stomach growled again upon thinking about food, "We have an indoor pool in the basement—"

"As well as an open bar, pool table, and whatnot," Charlie said with a cheeky grin. Dean looked elated about that and I smiled. Sam just shook his head at his brother,_ go figure._

"The bathrooms are all updated; you have a choice between a Jacuzzi tub or a stand-up shower," Kara prattled on with her ditzy smile.

"The arsenal room is located in the basement, before the pool," Charlie told Dean, "Got some nice additions, ya'll are more than welcome to check it out."

Dean chuckled, "Mighty kind of you, Charlie," he replied with sincerity in his voice, he glanced at me, "But I think I'd like to check out the master bedrooms, catch up on some sleep."

"Twenty-one hours is rough," I added, "We didn't get much sleep,"Charlie and Kara nodded in understanding, "I'll let you know whenever we can go out," I said to Kara. She smiled brightly at me.

"That's fine, honey." She replied. I looked over to Sam, who was engrossed in looking through a book.

"We're going to find a room, Sammy," I said. He glanced up at us and nodded.

"Okay," he responded, "I'll look for one later on," Sam looked at Charlie, "You have an amazing collection of books."

Charlie chuckled, "It took a long time to find them, a lot of swapping too."

Dean and I headed upstairs, peering into several rooms that were available.

_Bedroom_

Dean was dazzled by the bedroom that we had picked out. It was spacious, a flat screen hung on the wall across from the bed. The khaki colored wall where the queen-sized bed was at made the red covers stand out, along with the black bookshelves that were lined up against the furthest wall. A large window that had the most beautiful view of the mountains was on the left side of us, a door to the bathroom—I presumed, was adjacent to it.

Dean turned to me with a grin, "This room is so freaking cool!" I smiled at him softly, taking in his enthusiasm about our room for the extent of our stay. My body felt heavy with exhaustion, though I was careful to not allow it to show, Dean could easily pick up on it. I watched him shrug off his jacket, placing it on a nearby chair that sat beside the bed before approaching me from behind. He peeled my jacket off, tossing it onto his, and placed a tender kiss on my neck.

The hairs on my arms stood up as I let out a shaky breath from the contact, "Why didn't you tell me you haven't been sleeping well?" He murmured into my ear, making me stiffen.

_How did he know?_ I thought as he slowly turned me around to look at him in the eyes.

"You've been having nightmares again, haven't you?" He stated. I looked down, saying nothing. "Abigail," He lifted my chin up as I stared into those brilliant hazel orbs as they searched mine for an answer, "Haven't you?" He repeated as I nodded my head slowly, casting my eyes to the floor. I heard Dean sigh, pressing his lips against my forehead, and pulled me in tighter.

"I don't know how I feel about bein' here," I spoke quietly, "Bein' back in West Virginia."

"I know, Abs," Dean replied, "It's gotta be hard on you."

I laid my head onto his chest, "I just want to find Dad," I spoke in barely a whisper. I felt Dean's body tighten against mine, "I just want us to be a family again." Tears pricked my eyes and I blinked a few times, "I miss him."

Dean nodded, putting his face in my hair, "I do too, Abigail," He peered down at me with a smile, "We'll find him. No matter how long it takes us, we'll find him. Nothing can hurt him."

I smiled softly, tears still evident in my eyes, "He's tough."

Dean grinned, "Oh yeah."

I nodded, biting my lip, "I love you."

His eyes softened at my words, "Right back at ya babe. Always," He glanced outside to see the sun coming up over the horizon, "Hey," I looked to see the sky turn orange, "Didn't think we'd get here in time to see it."

Watching the sun rise, I rested my head on his shoulder, "I totally forgot about it to be honest."

"Why don't you like your birthday?" Dean asked suddenly. I frowned at him.

"I told you," I explained, "I feel it's just another day, why celebrate it?"

Dean furrowed his brows, "For one, it's your birthday. Two, the thought of you getting primped like a regular person is kinda hot."

I rolled my eyes at him, "Shut up, I hate the thought of it."

"You're weird."

I grinned smugly at him, "And I like it like that, too."

Dean hummed in agreement, turning his body towards me. I saw the familiar glint of lust in his eyes, "Why don't we try out that Jacuzzi?" he asked.

My grin never left my face as I placed my hands on Dean's shoulders, leaning my body into his, brushing my lips barely against his, "Why don't we?"

"Is that an offer?" He implied, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. I took a step back, seeing confusion in his eyes as I did so. My hands slowly went to my back, unfastening my bra. I reached into each of the sleeves, pulling the straps off, and pulled the black lace undergarment from the front of my shirt, letting it fall to the floor. Dean's eyes fell upon my chest, taking note of my hardened nipples pressing against my shirt and licked his lips, eyes flickering back up to mine. I smirked, reaching for the hem of my Led Zeppelin shirt, bringing it over my head, and let it fall to the floor next to my bra.

Dean shifted where he stood, his eyes glazing over in primal need as he stared at my bare chest.

I looked at him with a tilted head, "See anything you like?"

Dean smirked, "_Oh_ yeah." he replied as I took off my boots, "Don't take anymore off," he said huskily making me arch a brow at him. He stepped towards me, placing his hands on each side of my face and kissed me firmly. Desire shot through my body, fingers pulling at the hem of his shirt, he broke the kiss allowing me to pull it off of him before crashing his lips back onto mine. My hands slid up and down his chest, feeling each of his muscles quiver.

Our lips meshed with each other, our tongues entwining in the heat of the moment. Dean broke the kiss again, staring into my eyes. That oh so familiar wad of tension sat deliciously in my lower abdomen as I felt his hands slide down my body, quickly flicking his thumbs against my nipples when a moan escaped from my mouth. I felt my heart pound from inside my chest, watching him unbuckle my belt, as well as unbuttoning my jeans. My fingers fumbled with his, my eyes instantly greeted with the hardness of his manhood as I tugged his jeans down.

Dean chuckled, "We aren't being too eager, are we?"

"No, not at all," I replied as he made quick work of getting out of his boots and jeans. The only thing left on him was his necklace. He rarely took it off. I made quick work of my jeans and underwear, stepping out from them as well. Standing in the middle of the room stark naked, Dean brought his hand up to my cheek, gently running the pad of his thumb across my lip.

I looked up at him with a smile, staring into those beautiful hazel eyes of his; mesmerized. Bowing his head, Dean brushed his lips against my collarbone, nipping at certain areas of my neck. The hairs on my arms stood up as I ran my fingers through his hair, tipping my head to the side with a soft moan eliciting from my lips. The scratch of his stubble left a wake of heat when he brushed his cheek against mine as he brought up a hand, entangling it in my hair.

"Maybe the Jacuzzi can wait." He murmured against my skin, briefly pulling away with his sultry grin in place. I grinned, nodding. Letting my hair go, Dean lifted me up by my bottom with ease allowing me to wrap my legs around his waist. Feeling the heat from his enlarged manhood, I grew very excited, anticipating everything he did as he took a few steps until I arched my back from the sudden coldness of the wall, leaving me breathless. Taking one of my breasts into his hands, Dean began to massage it delicately, pulling and pinching my taut nipples with expertise. My body shook underneath his hulking figure, thankful that I wasn't standing or I would've fallen, making me look like a fool.

"Dean," I whispered out hoarsely, earning a smirk from him as he ran a soft hand against the inside of my thigh, running his fingers against my damp folds. The tension in my stomach knotted deliciously upon him inserting a finger within. I let out a shuddering breath, raking my nails down his shoulders light as he began pumping his hand to a primal rhythm. Leaning my head against the wall halfway closing my eyes, Dean took the opportunity to pull his finger out and adjust himself to where he could easily gain entrance. Feeling the burning sensation of the head at my entrance, I braced myself, opening my eyes and met his. With a swift thrust, the two of us stilled feeling that he had filled me to the brim.

I noticed the muscle in his jaw tick when he slowly began to pump, hands placed firmly on my hips. Pump after pump, I felt myself ascend into cloud nine, the nerves in my body singing with electricity. I bit my lip to prevent any noise from coming out, only to have Dean crash his lips against mine in a hungry kiss, tongues entwined in a dance as the two of us moaned with every passing second. I felt the familiar touch of his necklace hitting my chest with each thrust he took, every muscle in his body along with mine, quivering with ecstasy.

Our breathing became faster, his grip on my hips became tighter, and our kissing became rougher. I felt my heart beating inside my chest, wondering every now and then if it was going to burst through each passing thrust. The more Dean persisted, the more pleasurable it became. By the time that the both of us had reached our climaxes, we were covered in a thin gleam of perspiration. Dean stared into my eyes with wonder, letting go of my hip and lightly touched my face as if I were porcelain.

He blinked, planting a gentle, heart-felt kiss onto my swollen lips, saying nothing. It was one of his quirks. Dean Winchester was a man of showing, not telling. Seeing him in this vulnerable of state, treating me as if I were going to break, I finally understood what Haley Collins had meant three months ago by the way he looked at me. My heart swelled with so much admiration, I couldn't help but smile at him, running delicate fingers down his chest, fumbling with his pendant.

"It's beginning to feel like you like my pendant better than you like me, Abs," Dean spoke softly, breaking the silence with a lazy grin. I laughed softly, legs still wrapped around his waist. Looking over his shoulder, he wrapped his arms around me tightly and walked over to the bed, laying me down onto the clean, crisp sheets, wasting no time at all and pulled me into another heated kiss.

_Dean's Point of View_

Abigail was sound asleep beside me in our bed, arm draped over my waist and head situated on my shoulder. I knew she had to be tired, _three hoursof sleep_? I clenched my jaw glancing down at her from the television screen, _how could I have not known?_ Her breathing was even, lying still as can be. Apart of me wanted her to catch up on sleep, another part of me wanted to know why no one told me beforehand. I turned my attention back to the screen watching _Rocky II_, before realizing that I hadn't gotten Abigail anything for her birthday.

"Shit," I hissed out to no one in particular. Slowly, I removed Abigail's arm from around my waist and carefully slid out from bed. I let out a relieved breath in achieving that I hadn't woken her, turning, I padded over to the duffle bag of clothes, pulling out a clean shirt and jeans.

Getting dressed, I couldn't help but look back at Abigail, unsure if I should leave her in case she were to have another nightmare. After a few short moments of debating, I prayed silently that she wouldn't, approaching the bed and as carefully as I could, I planted a soft kiss on her forehead and walked out of the room. Walking down the hallway, I could hear Abigail's uncle and Sammy speaking from the living area. Descending the stairs, Charlie and Sam looked up with a smile.

"Well, look whose up," Charlie said, "You sleep well?"

I chuckled scratching the back of my head, "If that's what they call it nowadays, yeah."

Charlie laughed, taking a sip of coffee, "I hear ye," glancing up to the stairs.

"Oh, uh, Abigail's still asleep," I looked over to Sam, "She hasn't been sleeping well nowadays."

Sam wouldn't look at me, knowing that I had found out. Charlie nodded, running a hand over his beard, "How bad they gettin'?"

"They're getting worse," Sam admitted, glancing my way warily, "She was telling me that she'd been up three days…"

I felt my body stiffen, anger rising, "You mind explaining why you didn't tell me anything, Sammy?"

"She didn't want me to say anything, Dean."

I scoffed, "I'm your brother, Sam, I need to know these things."

Sam shook his head, "And she's also our sister," I let out a harsh laugh, shaking my head seeing Charlie arch his brow from where he sat. I leaned forward resting my arms on my knees.

"That's Abigail for ya," Charlie said, "Last time she was here, she took the god-awfullest fit," He shook his head, "I don't think she slept much after that either." Charlie's girl came out from the kitchen with a smile.

"Did you sleep well, Dean?" she asked brightly.

I grinned, "Oh yeah, perfectly." I watched her look around for Abigail, "Oh, uh, Abigail's still asleep."

Kara nodded, "I figured as much," she shook her head sitting beside Charlie, "Poor thing looked like she was about to fall over, she looked so tired."

I chuckled, sending Sam a look, "Abigail could sleep through a tornado right about now if it were to happen." Charlie and Kara laughed lightly.

_Abigail's Point of View_

_Later_

I woke up with a start, stretching. Running my fingers against the soft sheets of the bed, I frowned not feeling Dean beside me. Sitting up, I scrunched my face in confusion, looking around the room.

"Dean?" I called out softly, pushing my hair out of my face. Glancing at the clock, I saw that it was around eleven or so and climbed out of bed, padding over to the duffle bag of mine and Dean's clothes. Pulling out a pair of fitted, destroyed jeans, a white bra and underwear, and a white tank top. Stepping into my jeans, I pulled them up and buttoned them and fastened my bra, pulling the white tank top on. Standing in front of the full-length mirror, I looked over myself with a frown. With what I wore, I looked somewhat decent, though my scraggy hair and tired look made me feel like I was a well-dressed vagabond.

I ran my hands through my hair, beginning a braid at my bangs, before meshing it together into a fishbraid, pulling it apart after I secured it with a hair-tie. I picked up my fitted, military jacket and shrugged it on, and pulled my boots over my jeans. I stared at myself longer, taking notice of the minute scars on my face; one under my eye, another one in my hairline, and another one that was beginning to fade on my bottom lip. Each of them had a different story behind them. I had dark circles under my eyes that made me look like I had gotten two black eyes. My eyes then drifted down to my chest, seeing the beginnings of the pink scars from the Wendigo.

I frowned at them, _Another one for the collection_. I thought bitterly. What Dean had seen in me was beyond what I could comprehend, but there was one thing I knew for sure, I was nowhere _near_ being perfect. I reached for my mother's rosary, wrapping it around my left wrist several times, allowing the crucifix to dangle. I don't think I have ever let it out of my sight. I blew out another sigh, wondering what John was doing right now or where he was at. Hanging my head, tears welled up in my eyes causing me to wipe them away quickly with the heel of my palm.

Hearing a muffled laughter, I turned towards the door, remembering that Charlie's girlfriend was wanting to spend the day as a girl's day. I shook my head, dread washing over me. I didn't want this. I didn't even want my birthday to be celebrated. Gnawing on my bottom lip, I approached the door and twisted the knob, opening it.

Walking through the hallway, I descended the stairs coming into the living area seeing that there was no one around. I frowned, hearing Charlie laughing from outside. Stepping towards the front door, I opened it to see that everyone was standing outside. They all looked up at me, smiling. Dean was standing with a mug of coffee in his hand, Charlie stood with a mug of coffee as well, while Sam stood with just a glass of water. Kara grinned like an excited kid.

"Abigail, you're up!" she said, "Did you sleep well?"

I looked at her, stepping beside Dean and nodded, "Yeah…I slept alright."

Dean kissed me lightly on the temple, "Hey you." He whispered softly into my ear.

I leaned my body into his, "Hey you."

Charlie watched the both of us under calculating eyes, "No nightmares?"

I shook my head a little relieved, "No. No nightmares." The three men seemed relieved about it. I was too. I felt pretty good to have some sleep, "So, uh, Kara…" I began, "What do you exactly have planned today?"

Kara's smile widened, "I was thinking that we could go get us a mani-pedi, then perhaps go to the town center and get you some cute outfits—" I shivered at the word _cute outfits_, "—then we could go out for lunch somewhere and by the time we get back, the hog should be done cookin'."

I nodded slowly, unsure of what to say, "I uh, don't know if cute outfits should be ideal in my line of work…maybe something that would be a little more versatile?"

Kara laughed, "Abby, I know you guys are hunters," she rubbed her swollen stomach tenderly, "I grew up in a family of them," I looked at her shocked, "A girl always needs some nice clothes, never know when you need them."

I nodded again, "Oh…uh, alright then…" I glanced to Sam and Dean, "You think you can handle Charlie by yourselves?"

Dean grinned, "Yeah, I'm sure we could handle him."

Charlie chuckled at my joke, "Hurtin' my feelings now, Abby-girl?"

I smirked, "No, if I remember correctly, you like to blow things up."

Dean and Kara's brows rose at Charlie when he grinned mischievously, shoulders moving up and down as he began to belly laugh, "Now that's an awful thing to say about me," he said in between laughing, "But I've been known to do a few things in my youth."

I shook my head, "You three behave; especially you, Dean."

A look of feign shock fell upon his face, "What?" he said innocently, a grin breaking through. I laughed, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek, and sighed, turning to Kara.

"Let's get this over with," I said.

_Charleston, West Virginia_

_Mall_

There was a pungent smell of chemicals that clung to the inside of my nose. I sneezed into my jacket, when I looked around irritated at the group of women in the nail salon. Kara and I sat in two large recliner-type chairs with our feet in a small tub, hot water bubbling. I glanced down at Kara's swollen stomach.

"How…how far along are you?" I asked, earning a soft smile from her.

"About twenty weeks," Kara replied, "We haven't been able to find out what the baby's going to be. It's being stubborn. I think it's going to be a boy." She smiled to her belly, "Charlie wants a girl." She picked up her bottle of water, taking a sip, "How long have you and Dean been together?"

I laughed softly, staring at my lap, "A while," I replied, picking up my bottle of _Dr. Pepper,_ "I think…seven, eight years?"

Kara blinked, "That's a while, have you guys ever thought about settling down?"

I choked on my swallow of pop, coughing in shock at her question, "I, uh…" I shook my head, beating my fist against my chest to breathe properly, "No."

Kara laughed lightly, "You mean, you _like_ being on the road constantly?"

Moving my shoulders up and down in a shrug, I scrunched my face in thought, "It's okay…"

"I can remember being on the road _all the time_," Kara reminisced, "I hated it. I wanted to stay in one spot, to have something that I could call home," she smiled, looking at me, "I left when I graduated high school, went to college and I have never looked back."

I blinked, "Don't you miss your family?"

She nodded, "Yeah, of course I do. I see them every now and then when they come to stay at the house."

"So, how'd you and my uncle meet?"

Kara grinned, "In a bar. I was the bartender."

I laughed, "No kidding? How'd that work out?"

"He used to cheesiest line I think that was ever made," Kara giggled out, "Asked me, 'Did it hurt when I fell from Heaven?'" She shook her head with a school-girl smile, "I thought he was so cheesy, but he was adorable."

"Uncle Charlie, _adorable?_" I asked, "I never thought I'd hear that." The nail techs sat down in front of Kara and I, beginning to massage our legs. Sinking into the recliner, I pressed a remote to it, jumping slightly when it began to vibrate. My eyes rolled to the back of my head, "Oh my god," I breathed out, "Dean would _so_ love this."

Kara giggled, "He likes getting massages?"

"Oh yeah," I replied, "Especially those beds that vibrate…what are they called? Magic Fingers?"

Kara nodded after a moment, "Yeah, I think so."

I leaned my head back, allowing myself to relax, "I didn't think how much I needed this, Kara." I said, looking over to her, "Thanks." Kara reached her hand out with a soft smile, I took her hand.

"You're welcome, Abigail, it must be hard not having another girl around to vent." She replied.

A short moment went by, "Yeah," I nodded, "I kinda forgot what it felt like…I'm just used to telling everything to Sammy, then he went off to college for a while," I frowned, feeling my lip beginning to tremble, "I kinda just held things in, Dean and John were always gun-ho, ready for the next round and I was still trying to get over losing my brother." Kara looked at me sympathetically.

"Well, now you have another girl to talk to now," Kara said with a smile. I looked at her quietly, nodding, "What color are you wanting to get your toes done?" She asked suddenly.

I looked at the various arrays of colors, "Uh…I'm not sure," I admitted, "I don't really take the time for myself."

Kara laughed, reaching for the color she picked out. It was a hot, neon pink. I almost had to squint at how bright it was, "Get it done with this color, I think it'd look good with your complexion."

I took the bright pink bottle of nail polish in my hand, turning it over in speculation. Pursing my lips, I shrugged, "Why not? I think it'd be a shock on Sam and Dean seeing how they never see me in anything but band shirts and jeans."

Kara's jaw dropped, "You don't have any dresses or skirts or anything like that?"

I shook my head laughing, "Nope."

She shook her head in shock, "When we get done with this, I will find you some cute dresses!"

"It's winter." I stated, "It'd be too cold to wear a dress unless we were in Florida or California."

Kara grinned, "Well, I guess you guys just have to stay in one of those states then," she sighed, "You really don't have a dress?"

I shook my head, giggling, "No, I swear to you I don't."

_Later_

Kara and I stood in the middle of the mall searching for a different store to go in. I looked down at my hands seeing white tipped nails that were not even my own. I couldn't help but clench my hands to see if I was able to make a fist, touching my nails to my skin. I felt awkward, and I didn't feel right having them on my hands. I frowned further realizing that it would hinder my ability to play my guitar.

"You okay?" Kara asked, resting a manicured hand on my shoulder. I looked up at her, nodding.

"Yeah, I'm just not used to these things," I replied, holding up my hands sheepishly.

Kara laughed, "They're awkward at first, but you get used to them." She spotted _Victoria's Secret_ and grinned, "C'mon, we gotta get you some things from there." I turned seeing the intimate store and frowned.

"Those are expensive though," I whispered.

Kara waved dismissively, "You forget you have money, Abigail," she smiled, taking my hand leading me into the store. I breathed in the strong scent of perfume, covering my nose a little bit in discomfort. _I am so not used to this!_ I thought, peering down at the various arrays of lingerie. Kara held up a delicate looking pair of black lace underwear that had bows in the back causing me to raise my brows at them.

_Dean would like those._ I thought furtively, picking another pair up and inspected it, only to put it back down, "Twenty-eight _dollars_?" I hissed at Kara. She laughed at me, obviously amused.

"Get them," she urged, "I saw you looking at them."

Looking back down at them, I chewed on my lip hesitantly, "Fine." I muttered, picking up the underwear, some more catching my eye. It only took me ten minutes to ease into the idea of getting new underwear, especially getting skimpy little pieces of lace that would get a man's blood flowing in no time. I smugly picked out a few pairs of bras as well as getting some sweatpants and a baggy looking sweatshirt. Kara looked at me with excitement when I was finished and stood up at the counter waiting to check out.

"Those are cute!" Kara squealed in a hushed tone holding up a pair of thongs, "Here, I'll get them for you." I bit my lip to prevent myself from objecting. I slowly nodded, stepping aside watching the total rise up to almost two hundred dollars. I shifted uncomfortably, _Good Job, Abigail, you blew two hundred bucks on just _underwear! Kara turned to me with the decorative _Victoria's Secret _bag, still smiling. I took it, looking at the bag with a frown, knowing that saying anything would be futile. My fingers were already getting sore from the acrylic nails, and I was sure that Kara was going to drag me to more stores.

_Charlie's House_

Coming up the long driveway, I played with my nails growing nervous again. Being drug into several makeup stores, I sat through one store getting makeup put on that 'went well with my complexion' and had eye makeup that would 'make my eyes stand out'.

_What a bunch of crock_, I grumbled. I had over five hundred dollars' worth of clothes and make up, as well as new shoes and jewelry sitting in the trunk. _Yeah, that doesn't make me uncomfortable at all._

I just wanted to get back to Dean and Sam, to feel normal and not pampered. Though I had to admit it felt good to get out and do something like that with another girl. Before we had left, Kara begged me to change into some of my new things to surprise Dean with, so I did. I sat in the passenger seat wearing a pair of tight skinny jeans, knee high boots, a long sleeved v-neck shirt, as well as a new oversized military jacket.

Kara looked to me with a grin, "Do you like everything you got?" she asked.

I nodded, "Yeah, I don't think I could thank you enough."

She smiled, "I'm glad, I just wanted to do something since it's your birthday."

"I don't usually do anything for my birthday," I admitted, "I just usually try to skip through it or do something that doesn't remind me of it."

"We should do this more," Kara said, "I really enjoyed it, and whenever the baby comes, I want you, Dean and Sam to be here."

I blinked at her, "Yeah, of course."

Kara eased in around the Impala before cutting the engine, "You want me to help you with everything?"

I shook my head with a soft smile, "Nah, I got it. I have to put everything in a duffle bag so that it doesn't take up room…gotta try and travel light." She nodded understandingly, then all of a sudden she took me in an embrace. I froze in my seat, stunned at her action, slowly patting her on the back. Sitting back, she gazed at me with a sisterly smile on her face.

"Come on," Kara said smiling at me, "We gotta show you off."

I rolled my eyes, tucking my hair behind my ear, "Let do this."

Inside, Dean, Charlie, and Sam were sitting watching some sort of movie. _Obviously something Dean hissed him up to watching_, I thought stepping uneasily into view of the boys. Kara cleared her throat causing them to look away from the television. Kara stood beside me with her bubbly grin in place, while I stood there feeling like a show dog. I shifted uncomfortably in my spot, not knowing whether to fold my arms or put my hands in my pockets. Either way, I felt horribly out of place; the fake nails that cause my fingers to hurt didn't help.

Sam and Charlie blinked at me either astonished or shock, while Dean straightened up in his chair, eyeing me with those luminous green eyes of his. Kara took my by the arm, pulling me towards the three men.

"What do you guys think?" She asked with an eager smile while I peered down at the hardwood floor to avoid anyone's gaze and twisted my hands at the uncomfortableness.

Charlie chuckled, "Abby-girl, you look great."

Sam nodded, "Yeah, you look amazing, Abigail." I glanced up at my uncle and Sam, giving them an embarrassed tight-lipped smile before shifting my weight in my feet. Sam, sitting beside him, continued to blink with bewilderment…perhaps shock. I don't think he's ever saw me without a band shirt or his shirt or Dean's shirt on. I don't think I wanted to be out of these clothes and into my old ones as bad as anything else.

"Thanks," I murmured, running a manicured hand through my loosely braided hair. Feeling Dean's eyes on me, I looked up seeing him smirking and winked. Automatically, butterflies had made their appearance in my gut, my face heated up. I hadn't reacted to anything like that in _years_. I found myself grinning stupidly at him.

"Dean." Sam said coaxing his brother to blink, turning his head to him with furrowed brows, "Are you gonna say anything?"

Dean pursed his lips thoughtfully, looking back to me, "I think my girl is _smoking _hot." Everyone including myself, started laughing.

I wrapped my arms around myself, "_Thanks_, that wasn't expected from you at all."

Dean grinned up at me from his seat, "Seriously though, you look beautiful, Abs." I grinned at him, granting everyone in that house a genuine smile. The look that I saw in his eyes were clear that he had accomplished something within him, whether it was seeing me or Sam smile, or seeing me get new things. I think the big brother in him was overjoyed to see something good come out in our hectic lives.

"Thanks," I replied lightly, feeling a knot form in my throat, "I got a _lot_ of bags out in the car…" I motioned my thumb backward, "I'm gonna go get them." Charlie gazed at me with a grin, getting up.

"Abigail, you just sit and relax," He crossed the room over to me, placing a strong hand on my shoulder, "Kara and I will take care of 'em." I opened my mouth to protest, "_sit._" He ordered.

Pursing my lips, I merely nodded at my uncle and walked over to where Sam was sitting, due to Dean being in a small loveseat, and plopped down. Kara and Charlie left us in the living room, allowing me to blow out a breath of air, "What did I do to deserve this?" I asked, glancing up at my two brothers.

Sam patted my shoulder, "It's something you needed, Abigail."

I furrowed my brows, "No," I shook my head, lifting my hands to show them my nails, "_This_ is unnecessary." Dean's brows rose along with Sam's, "I would've chosen going to a gun store or some outfitter, rather than a freakin' _mall_!"

Dean chuckled, "You're sweating it, cherry-pie. Enjoy it while you still can," he lifted his bottle of beer to his lips, "Who knows when the next time we get to do something like this again whenever we find Dad."

I nodded, staring down at my new boots, "Have you found anything out from Charlie while I was gone?"

Sam sighed, shaking his head, "_No_."

"But Charlie does have one hell of an arsenal room," Dean added, "Puts the one we have in Baby to shame." I snorted, leaning back into the couch only to catch Dean staring at me again.

"What?"

"You got make-up on." He deadpanned.

I groaned, flopping my head backwards, "I _know_. Kara drug me through like, four different make-up stores. I don't know _how_ many department stores," I gazed at Sam and Dean with a sad look, "All of the clothes that I have are just going to end up getting ruined within a week."

Dean stood up and made his way to the other side of me, sitting down. He placed a hand on my knee, staring at me with a stern look, "Abs, if you don't like them, take them back. Sammy and I can't tell you what to do," He told me, "Charlie and Kara are your only living family."

"I know that too, that's why I let them do it," I muttered, "I like my old stuff…"

Sam scoffed, "You mean my stuff, and Dean's."

I grinned sheepishly at Sam, "_Maybe_." We turned our heads upon hearing the door opening as Kara and Charlie walked in with bags in each hand. Sam and Dean looked at the bags, then turned to look at me. I shrugged innocently at them.

"Kara went a bit overboard," I said, as Charlie went up the stairs following Kara.

"When we get your stuff in your room, we gotta go outside," Charlie hollered going up the stairs, "Got some food out in the barn that's ready." I opened my mouth to say something, only to close it when Dean shook his head at me. Frowning, I crossed my arms and pouted.

_Barn_

The aroma of Barbeque and pork invaded my senses, making my mouth water and stomach rumble. The faint smell of horses clung in the air as well, bringing me into a state of nostalgia along with the cast iron cook stove sitting the far corner of the building. Warmth was spread out with no signs of the icy bite of winter. It was so warm, we were stripped of our jackets only mere seconds of being inside.

On the far side of the wall, there were tables set up. On them were various arrays of food; a tray of pulled pork, ribs, mashed potatoes and gravy. Several bowls of chips and pretzels, along with dip. Even a bowl of salad, which I presumed that was claimed by Sam. On another table, there sat scads of fudge and pie, and a cake? I blinked.

_They seriously got me a cake?_ I thought to myself, turning towards the men and Kara, "You got me a cake," I deadpanned.

Charlie flashed me a grin from under his beard, "Why yeah, a birthday ain't a birthday without cake."

"Or pie." Dean chimed in with a smile.

"Or pie." Charlie confirmed, waggling his finger, "You gotta point, Dean." We shared a lighthearted chuckle as I tilted my head in agreement. Pie had been my cake for the past twelve years. I couldn't help but smile at his contribution, "A'ight, let's eat." Charlie announced, "Birthday girl first."

"Oh boy," I said dryly, waving a finger around in a circle while rolling my eyes, "You sure Kara doesn't want to go first? I mean, baby's gotta eat." We stared at Kara, who only smiled at me.

"I am hungry," Kara giggled out.

I motioned ahead of me, "Pregnant woman first then."

Sitting down in a chair beside Dean, the both of us couldn't help but stare at Sam as he dug into a pile ribs on his plate. He looked up at us with a confused look.

"What?"

Dean smirked at his brother, "It does my heart good seeing my brother eat real food."

Sam shook his head with a roll of his eyes, "Dean, I do eat _real _food. Just not the junk you two eat." He explained, crinkling his nose at me while I piled a large bite of pie into my mouth, chewing thoughtfully, and paused seeing Sam's distasteful look.

"What?" I asked with food still in my mouth. Sam arched a brow at me, while Dean chuckled.

"Sammy says we eat only junk food," Dean instigated.

I looked at Sam, swallowing down the pie, "I don't eat junk food."

"I didn't say…" Sam stopped himself, "Quit putting words in my mouth, Dean."

Dean grinned smugly at his brother before shoveling a spoonful of pie into his mouth as well and chewed, eyes glittering mischievously. I rolled my eyes at them, before turning to see Charlie looking at me with a small smile. Blinking, I cocked my head at him.

"Get you a guitar, Abby." Charlie spoke, "Told ya we were gonna pick a little bit."

Getting up from beside Dean, I went to the wall nearest to Charlie and picked out two guitars. I handed one of them to Charlie and pulled a stool beside him, strumming the guitar to check the chords and to see if they were in tune. I played the first bit of The Rolling Stones', _Paint it Black_ and nodded to myself with a smirk. Charlie grinned seeing that I've gotten better.

"Well I'll be damned," Charlie said running a calloused hand down his beard. I shrugged with a smile. Dean, Sam, and Kara sat watching us intently, "What song you want to start with?"

I thought for a moment, "_Midnight in Montgomery_."

Charlie nodded, "Good song, good song, start it off baby-girl."

I smiled and began to strum. My fingers were sore from the nails, but found it somewhat easy to still play.

_Later_

Dean and I stepped into our darkened room. I was beat, hell, I was _more_ than ready to sleep, nightmare or no nightmare. Shrugging our jackets off, Dean kissed me on the lips once again. Somewhere into the kiss, I started to smile. Pulling away, I couldn't really see the expression on his face, but I had a feeling that he was amused.

"What is it?" he asked.

I shook my head slowly, "You."

Dean chuckled, "What about me?"

"Everything," I replied, "You mean the world to me, Dean," I said, "and then some." I added before I stepped back to find the light switch, and flipped it up, blinking wildly in order to allow my eyes to adjust to the sudden brightness. Dean stood a few feet away from me, eyes wandering from my face to my feet and back up. _Always calculating something. He seemed to never stop_. I noticed his eyes wander behind me, causing me to curiously look over my shoulder.

My heart sped up and I turned, seeing a large bouquet of flowers lying on the bed with a small, square box sitting beside it. A small gasp passed through my lips, covering my mouth with my hand. I stared at the flowers and box, then looked back to Dean, who was looking back at me with an innocent look and raise eyebrows.

"What did you-?" I stuttered out, finding that I was at a loss for words. I looked back at the flowers again, my mouth gaping, "Did you-?"

He shrugged casually at me, taking a couple of steps towards me, "You should really close your mouth, Abs." A mischievous smirk tugged at his lips, "You're gonna end up swallowing a fly."

"Dean, you shouldn't—," I started to say again and shook my head.

Dean's lips pursed in impatience, "Will you go open box? I feel weird as it is getting you flowers." The lop-sided grin he gave me caused me to start grinning stupidly. Approaching the two objects on the bed, I looked down at them allowing my fingers run along the bouquet seeing various small flowers meshing in with red roses.

_So cheesy_. I thought with a grin, emitting a small laugh as I picked them up. Peering over my shoulder at Dean, he stood with a hand on his hip and scratched the back of his head with the other, looking at me with hopeful eyes, "I love them." I told him in a hushed voice.

"Really?" He asked, "Well, if you like them…you know, you'll like the other thing better," He urged, retaining that innocent look on his face. With a playful eye roll in his direction, I set the flowers down and picked up the little box.

_It's not what I think it is…is it?_ I asked myself. Suddenly, I was overcome with an array of emotions. _Did he want what I think?_ I mentally shook my head, _Of course not. This is Dean. Not the commitment type._ _Did I want this though?_ I bit my lip tracing the line of the box, flipping it open and stared blankly at what was in it. There wasn't a ring, there wasn't earrings, and there wasn't a bracelet, but a necklace. A simple necklace with a silver chain and a spent Winchester .45 Colt round. I held the box in my hand, staring at it for a long time.

Tears welled in my eyes as I finally looked at Dean. The cute innocent look that he donned on his face vanished when he saw the tears in my eyes, seeing a deep frown take form.

"You don't like it." He stated somberly.

Wiping away the tears, I shook my head, "No, Dean." I stood up with the box in tow, "I love it." I watched his eyes light up at my words as I crossed the room to him and hugged him tightly, "This is the best gift I could ever want."

Feeling his arms wind around me, Dean buried his face into the crook of my neck, "I'm glad."

I smiled into his jacket, "Put it on me?" I asked.

He straightened up, looking at me and nodded, "Turn around."

Conceding, I handed him the box before I turned around, bunching my falling hair in my hand. Dean then laced an arm around me, holding the necklace and laced the other around me to where he could get the other end of the necklace. Bringing it up to my neck, the cool touch of the silver and brass chilled me a little then felt it go loose, falling between the space of my breasts. I dug it out, letting it show.

"It looks good on you," Dean said wrapping his arms tightly around my waist.

"You're right about this," I began to say with a smirk, "I love this more than the flowers." Dean began chuckling from behind me, feeling his body shake with amusement.

"Good, cause I spent forever on it." He replied. I blinked, turning around in his arms to look up in his eyes, speechless. With raise brows, he grinned, "Yeah, you heard me sugar-pie, I made you the necklace."

I said nothing, getting up on my tip-toes and kissed him passionately. This had to be the most memorable birthday I've ever had, and the way it ended couldn't have been any better.


	9. Skin

**Hello my lovelies and welcome to chapter 8!**

**I think I might have gone over this chapter four or five times to ensure that it didn't sound awkward or too mushy on some parts. Also, there is a ****_big_**** surprise towards the end of this one! Is it too soon? Will it add some drama? Leave me some feedback on what you guys think at the end of this chapter! I'm always open for ideas!**

**And as always my dears, if you have a hankering to see a little scene, add a quote or two or three, and whatnot, leave it in your review or just shoot me a message! I'll ensure that you'll see it within the next chapter or two; I'll even work with you on it! (:**

**This story is not only for my pleasure and satisfaction, it's for you guys! **

**So please, sit back and enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the ****_Supernatural _****franchise. Eric Kripke does. However, Abigail, her family, and any scenes that are non-canon are mine, as well as future scenes, I will give credit to whomever has given ideas! (:**

* * *

_Gas Station_

_Somewhere near Tucumcari, New Mexico_

_February 28__th__, 2006_

Sam and I were dead silent in the Impala. It being winter-ish in New Mexico didn't exactly perk me up either. It was cold and I personally hated it. Wrapped up in a blanket, donning one of Dean's jackets and one of Sam's beanies, I sat up against the interior of the Impala reading a few entries of John's journal. Somehow, imagining John's voice echoing in my mind as I read each entry had a calming effect on me.

It brought hope and ease to my restless mind on him. A prayer here and there helped as well. The nightmares, however, were a different story. Not that they bothered me as much, it was just when I had them. I shivered at the thought of a recent one.

I felt a frown tug at my lips.

"Alright, I figure we'd hit Tucumcari by lunch, then head south, hit Bisbee by midnight." I heard Dean say. I looked up from John's journal seeing that we had stopped at a gas station, "Sam wears women's underwear." Dean added.

I cracked a smile, looking up at Dean. He threw me a wink through the rearview mirror.

"I've been listenin', I'm just busy," Sam replied, sounding distracted by something. I leaned forward, peering over his shoulder to see him staring down at his PalmPilot.

With my curiosity piqued, I crinkled my nose and sat back into the seat looking at the back of his head, "Busy doin' what, Sammy?"

He looked up into the rearview mirror at me, "Reading e-mails." Dean and I shared a look before he got out of the car to fill it with gas.

"E-mails from who?" Dean asked from outside.

Letting out an irritated sigh, Sam rolled his eyes, "From my friends at Stanford."

Dean arched at brow, "You're kidding." He stated, "You still keep in touch with your college buddies?"

Sam shrugged nonchalantly at us, "Why not?"

I puffed out my bottom lip with a small shrug, "Well, what exactly do you tell 'em?" I asked, "You know, about where you've been" I flicked my fingers in a small wave, "what you've been doin'?"

Sam looked over his shoulder at me, "I tell 'em I'm on a road trip with my big brother and my adopted sister," he replied honestly, "I tell 'em I needed some time off after Jess."

I nodded, toying with a page in Dad's journal subconsciously until Dean leaned into the window, sticking his head into the car, "Oh, so you lie to 'em." He challenged.

"No," Sam bristled at his brother's challenge, "I just don't tell 'em…_everything_."

"Yeah, that's called lying," Dean retorted, "I mean, hey, man," he threw his hands up in defense, "I get it, tellin' the truth is far worse."

"So, what am I supposed to do, just cut everybody out of my life?" Sam asked. With a raised brow, Dean simply shrugged. Sam's features steeled, "You're serious?" He deadpanned.

"Look, it sucks, but in a job like this, you can't get close to people. _Period._" Dean said.

"How can you say that?" Sam stated with resentment lacing his words. I looked down into the journal once more. _Not getting into that argument._

Dean looked dumbfounded, "What do you mean?"

He threw Dean a dirty look, then motioned his head in my direction, "For one, you have Abigail." He scoffed, "You _always_ have. Don't tell me that you haven't gotten close to someone." Dean's eyes flickered my way, then shrugged dismissing Sam's words.

"Abigail's different," Dean replied, "She's one of _us_. She knows how it is in the life." He explained, "Besides, you have her too." I looked up at Dean with an arched brow, he shifted uncomfortably at a thought, "Just in a strict brother-sister…friend, relationship." With a simple shake of my head, I closed my eyes and laughed silently in amusement. Personally, I didn't think Dean knew exactly how to word out this argument.

Sam blew out a hot breath, turning his attention to his PalmPilot once again, "You're kind of-," He groaned and twisted his body around to look at me, "He's kind of anti-social, you know that, right?"

My mouth twitched into a half-smile, "If I told you I didn't, it'd be a lie." Placing the journal down, I opened the car door stepping out, "Besides, you think the both of us had the time to have a social life when you skipped off to college?"

Sam averted my gaze, opening a window in his PalmPilot, "No…" he murmured.

I shrugged at him, resting my case. Turning, I walked up behind Dean, sliding my arms around his waist while I managed to get my hands out from the sleeves of his jacket. He jumped slightly from the sudden gesture, though looking over his shoulder at me, Dean grinned, "Hey you."

I grinned up at him, "Hey you." Dean lifted up his left arm slightly so I could slide around to his front, where he lifted my chin to kiss me.

"Found anything interesting in Dad's journal?" he asked, putting the nozzle back onto the pump.

I shrugged, "Ah, this and that. He talks a lot about…you know." I trailed off, not really wanting to bring up Mary. Dean's eyes glazed over at the thought of his mother, as well as the memory of that fateful night. His embrace tightened, resting his chin on top of my head for a short moment.

"God…" We heard Sam utter softly. Dean looked down at me with a look that matched mine.

"What?" We asked in unison, then looked at each other again.

"In this e-mail from this girl, Rebecca Warren, one of those friends of mine—," Sam began.

Dean perked up, "Is she hot?" he asked quickly. Sam ignored him, while I rolled my eyes, swatting his arm playfully.

"I went to school with her, and her brother, Zack. She says Zack's been charged with murder," Sam continued, eyes moving down the e-mail, "He's been arrested for killing his girlfriend. Rebecca says he didn't do it, but it sounds like the cops have a pretty good case."

Dean arched a brow, "Dude, what kind of people are youhangin' out with?" he asked in a serious tone. I looked between them, feeling that another argument was arising. _Only them_.

I jabbed my thumb in the direction of the gas station, "I'm going to get some coffee…Any of you want anything?" I asked. Sam shook his head, clearly distracted by the e-mail from his friend, while Dean shrugged.

"Pie if they got it," He said. I nodded, placing a tender kiss on his cheek and started to walk away from them.

"Make sure they have pie!" I heard him call out before Sam started back in, saying "I know, Zack. He's no killer."Stepping into the store, I couldn't help but shake my head at them both. They were something else.

A few minutes later, I walked out carrying a rather large cup of coffee and a bag of chips, along with a stick of jerky and of course, two pieces of pie; one being lemon and the other being cherry, before I heard a full blown pissing match from the Impala.

"Look, sorry 'bout your buddy, okay? But this does not sound like our kind of problem." I heard Dean retort.

Coming closer, I saw Sam looking at Dean with narrowed eyes, "It _is_ our problem. They're my friends."

I stayed back a ways for a short time, "St. Louis is _four hundred_ miles behind us, Sam." Dean argued. I looked between them, taking a small sip of coffee.

"Do I want to know?" I asked, earning dirty looks from both Sam and Dean, who in turn, looked from me, back to Sam, back to me, and finally back to Sam in some weird, secret squirrel, mind conversation.

Hell, I didn't know.

"_No_," Dean growled out, grabbing the bag from me and looked into it for the pies, "Sam, you're driving since it's _your_ friends." I blinked a couple of times at how cross Dean was acting.

_Jeeze_. Climbing back into the Impala, I picked up the journal, sitting it in my lap as Sam scooted across the front seat to the driver's side, turning the ignition. Dean piled in beside me, slamming the car door roughly, and stabbed into the slice of pie as if he were picturing it as Sam's head.

This was going to be interesting.

_Rebecca's House—Day_

After an uneventful and rather boring drive of six hours, Dean had finally simmered down to where he wanted to drive the rest of the way to St. Louis. Sam didn't complain, though with a simple eye roll, he took to the backseat to sleep while I sat shotgun, humming to myself.

Five and a half hours later, with thirty minutes shaved off due to Dean's driving, we parked outside Sam's friend, Rebecca's house. With Sam standing in front of Dean and I, we exchanged a glance before a pretty blonde answered the door.

I quirked a brow, _I'm sensing a pattern here of blondes._

The girl, I presumed as Rebecca, gasped out in delight, "Oh my God, Sam!"

With a chuckle, Sam smirked at her, "Well, if it isn't little Becky."

Rebecca arched her brow, "You know what you can do with that little Becky crap." She retorted with a smile before they stepped into a friendly embrace.

"I got your e-mail," Sam replied somberly whenever they pulled back.

She looked at him, shaking her head, "I didn't think that you would come here," she said. I looked between the two in silence while hiding a smile when Dean stepped up with an extended hand.

"Dean. Older brother." He said in his own way of introductions.

Rebecca smiled at him, shaking his hand, "Hi."

He grinned, waggling his eyebrows teasingly, "Hi." Rebecca looked behind him, seeing me and I smiled, waving my hand slightly.

"Hi, I'm Abigail…" I began, "Sorta-kinda older sister."

"Sorta-kinda?" she asked, looking to Sam and Dean with an arched brow.

"Long story," I explained, not elaborating any further. She nodded not questioning any further, still smiling.

Sam looked at us, then to her, "We're here to help. Whatever we can do." He spoke, obviously trying to change the subject.

"Come in," She invited us, opening the door wider. We filed in, with Dean' shutting the door behind him. I looked around my surroundings, taking in the rather spotless home. Feeling a little off, I glanced at a few photos hanging along the wall, and on a vanity.

"Nice place," Dean commented.

Rebecca looked over her shoulder at him, "It's my parents." She explained, "I was just crashing here for the long weekend when everything happened. I decided to take the semester off. I'm gonna stay until Zack's free."

Sam looked around, "Where are your folks?"

"They live in Paris for half the year, so they're on their way home now for the trial." She explained further as we followed her into a spacious kitchen/living area. Turning toward us, she pointed to the refrigerator, "Do you guys want a beer or something?"

Dean smiled, "Hey—,"

Sam shook his head, "No, thanks." He said, cutting Dean off, and as a result threw a dirty look at him, "So, tell us what happened."

"Well, um, Zack came home, and he found Emily tied to a chair. And she was beaten up and bloody," Rebecca's breathing became heavier as tears formed in her eyes, "and she wasn't breathing." It was still to new, "So, he called 911, and the police—they showed up, and they arrested him." Sam's friend looked at us, shaking her head, "But, the thing is, the only way that Zack could've killed Emily is if he was in two places at the same time. The police—they have a video. It's from the security tape from across the street. And it shows Zack coming home at 10:30. Now, Emily was killed just after that, but I _swear_, he was here with me, having a few beers until at least after midnight." She finished, quickly wiping away the freshly fallen tears from her eyes.

Sam, who was eerily silent throughout Rebecca's explanation, looked over to Dean and me, "You know, maybe we could see the crime scene," he stated, "Zack's house."

Dean was hesitant, then gave Sam a short nod, "We could."

"Why? I mean, what could you do?" Rebecca asked, looking mainly to Dean.

"Well, me, not much. But Dean's a cop." Sam offered, earning a laugh from Dean.

"Detective, actually." Dean added, not missing a beat.

A flash of hope washed over Rebecca's face, "Really?" She asked in earnest, as Dean nodded, "Where?"

"Bisbee, Arizona." He replied, "But I'm off-duty now." Looking from Dean, to Sam, to Rebecca, I was still amazed at how easily Dean could lie without batting an eyelash. Sometimes I wondered if Dean has ever lied to me at all.

Rebecca gave us a genuine smile, "You guys, it's so nice to offer, but I just—I don't know."

Sam gave Rebecca a sincere look, "Bec, look, I know Zack didn't do this." He told her, "Now, we have to find a way to prove that he's innocent."

Sam's friend fell silent in contemplation.

Sam looked as if he were holding his breath, waiting for her to answer when she looked at us, nodding, "Okay," she finally said, "I'm gonna go get the keys." She turned on her heel and down a hallway, leaving the three of us to ourselves.

A low whistle emitted from Dean's lips as he watched her go, then turned to Sam, "Oh, yeah, man, you're a real straight shooter with your friends." He teased, waggling his brows. I folded my arms, smirking at Sam. Dean did have a point.

Sam sighed, "Look, Zack and Becky need our help."

Dean shrugged, "I just don't think this is our kind of problem."

I leaned on the bar with an elbow, "I don't know Dean, I mean, two places at _once_?" I pointed out, "I don't know about you two, but it's awfully familiar to me, and besides," I stared at Dean, watching him shift in place under my gaze, "We've looked into less."

Dean's eyes bored into mine, shifting to Sam briefly, then back to me before hanging in defeat, "You two realize I hate it when you outnumber me, right?"

Sam and I grinned at him.

I lifted my arms slightly, "What can I say? Learned from the best."

Dean rolled his eyes.

_Zack's House—Day_

Rebecca glanced at Dean anxiously as we stepped out of the Impala, looking across the street at Zack's townhouse. From what I could see, yellow police tape was taped along the length of the door in an 'X' fashion.

"You're sure this is okay?" She asked.

"Yeah." He answered her, "I'm an officer of the law." Rebecca must've missed the copious amounts of sarcasm dripping off the last part of what Dean had said when he took off across the street. Wasting no time, the three of us took off after him.

Stepping under the tape at the door first, I blinked a few times trying to get my eyes adjusted to the sudden dimness. The strong, metallic smell of dried blood was the first thing to assail my nose, causing me to instantly cover my nose in a poor attempt to prevent my gag reflex from coming to life. Sam and Dean stepped in behind me, looking around as well. Rebecca, who was standing outside still, peeked in.

"Bec, you wanna wait outside?" Sam asked when he turned to her.

She shook her head, after peering over her shoulder from outside, "No, I wanna help." Without hesitation, she ducked under the tape as well, entering the bloodied house.

I had come to a photograph with an evidence marker with a number four beside it. It was of a man with a goatee with his arm wrapped around a pretty girl. Presumably, Zack and Emily, hence it being their house and all. I tilted my head a little at the photograph longer. _He ain't half bad lookin' either, but not my type_, I thought smugly before looking to Rebecca, "Tell us what else the police said," I encouraged, tearing my gaze away from the photograph.

In an instant, tears were back in her eyes, "Well, there's no sign of a break-in. They say that Emily let the attacker in." She began, "The lawyers—they're already talking about plea bargain…" I frowned upon hearing her voice faltering and she looked around the room, taking in the bloody scene before her. Rebecca put her hand over her mouth, "Oh, God…." She said as she began crying.

I couldn't help but feel sympathetic towards her, and yet, I felt so uncomfortable being here. My frown deepened the more that I pondered. Something was going on that we definitely needed to address, but I couldn't quite place my finger on it. A dog barking rather loudly had caught my attention, as it did Dean's.

Sam had asked Rebecca if she had any idea on who could've done this. In her reply to him, someone had previously broken in a week earlier before the chain of events, the only thing being stolen, was his clothes. Dean crossed over to peer at the open door, seeing the dog barking wildly, snarling every now and then. Seeing what Dean was looking at, Rebecca came up behind him.

"You know, that used to be the sweetest dog," she commented.

Dean turned, "What happened?"

Rebecca's shoulders rose in a shrug, "I don't know, he just changed."

"Do you remember when he changed?" Dean asked.

"I guess around the time of the murder." She told him. He looked at her momentarily, walking off into different area of the house, nodding in my direction to follow.

Further into the house, I felt more uneasy. This wasn't just an old fashioned murder. Something paranormal had done this, I was certain. Dean and I were silent until we came across Sam, who was standing in the hallway looking at a framed photo of himself with Zack and Rebecca.

"So, the neighbor's dog went psycho right around the time Zack's girlfriend was killed." Dean spoke quietly, stopping a little ways.

"Animals can have a sharp sense of the paranormal," Sam murmured, not taking his eyes off the photograph.

Dean nodded, "Yeah, maybe Fido saw somethin'." Sam broke eye contact with the photograph, then turned to me, with Dean staring as well. I knew what they were thinking. I looked at them both with a raised brow.

"Oh so, I'm an animal now?" I asked.

Sam shook his head, "No, but you feel it don't you?"

I tilted my head, shrugging, "Somethin's not right, that's for sure." My eyes went to Dean, "So, you think maybe this is our kind of problem?"

"No. Probably not, Abs." Dean replied with his stubbornness shining through, "But, we should look at the security tape, you know," he inquired, inclining his head a little while lifting his shoulders, "Just to make sure."

Knowing Dean would've swung my way given my opinion, Sam and I both nodded in agreement, just as Rebecca walked up to join us.

I turned to her, "So, the tape…The security footage—"I began, "you think maybe your lawyers could get their hands on it?" I asked. Rebecca eyed me. I let out a small laugh, "I don't think Dean has that kind of jurisdiction, given we're from Arizona and all."

Rebecca then nodded, "Yeah, I've already got it. I didn't wanna say something in front of the cop." She said, motioning in Dean's direction. He chuckled at her, "I stole it off the lawyer's desk. I just had to see it for myself."

Dean nodded, eyes twinkling mischievously, "Alright then."

_Rebecca's House—Night_

Making it back to Rebecca's house, Sam and I were standing in front of the television, leaving enough room for Rebecca and Dean to watch between us. The remote was tucked under Sam's chin as he stared intently at the screen of the security footage, Dean was perched on the arm of the chair, while Rebecca was sitting on the couch, leaning forward to watch the video.

"Here he comes," Rebecca announced. Zack came into view, peering straight into the camera for a moment as he walked in. My jaw slackened instantly the man came into view. That wasn't Zack.

"22:04, that's just after ten," Dean said, taking note of the timestamp, "You said the time of death was about ten-thirty."

"Our lawyers hired some kind of video expert." She replied, "He says the tape's authentic. It wasn't tampered with."

I looked over to Sam, who stiffened slightly, "Hey, Bec, can we take those beers now?" he asked.

She nodded, "Oh, yeah, sure."

As she turned to go to the kitchen, Sam caught her attention again, "Maybe some sandwiches, too?"

She arched her brow at him, "What do you think this is, Hooters?" she asked, beginning to laugh, then walked away.

"I wish," Dean muttered, before he crossed over to where we stood at the television, "What is it?" he asked.

Sam rewound the tape, "Check this out," he murmured, pressing play. The one frame that the imposter Zack looks directly into the camera made me want to tear my hair out. His eyes were silver, though in reality, as I saw it, was fuglier than anything I've seen…aside from demons. They took the cake on fugliness.

Dean stared at the paused frame of the man's eyes, "Maybe it's a camera flare."

I shook my head, "That's not like any camera flare I've ever seen, Dean. You know that." He inclined his head in agreement, "A lot of cultures believe that a photograph can catch a glimpse of the soul…"

"Right."

Sam nodded as well, "Remember that dog was freakin' out? Maybe he saw this thing. Maybe this is some kind of dark double of Zack's," he looked to me then back at his brother, "Something that looks like him but isn't him."

I opened my mouth to speak, unfortunately I was cut off by Dean, "Like a _Doppelgänger_."

Sam nodded, "It'd sure explain how he was two places at once."

I pursed my lips, narrowing my eyes back at 'Zack'. _Not him. Not a Doppelgänger. What the shit was it called?!_

Dean looked over to me, sensing I was wanting to say something, "What is it?"

"That's not a _Doppelgänger_." I said finally.

Sam looked at me, "Abigail, that's the only thing we can come up with. That explains everything."

"That's not it, Sam," I muttered shaking my head a smidge, "That's not Zack, and that sure as hell ain't a _Doppelgänger_." Sam nodded, urging me to go on, and I sighed, "I know, firsthand." Dean winced beside me at the memory. He remembered it all too well.

Dean looked to the screen, "Then what is it?" He asked me, not wanting to go into specifics after receiving a look from Sam.

"Something that is definitely not a _Doppelgänger_," I said simply. Both men stared at me, clueless. I shrugged, "I can't place my finger on the damned name, alright?"

Sam rolled his eyes, "Well, for now it's a _Doppelgänger_."

I shook my head, waving at him dismissively, "Whatever floats your boat, Sammy."

_Zack's House_

_Alleyway—Night_

Dean pulled the Impala behind Zack's house, wiping sleep from his eyes. I was beginning to feel pretty lethargic, though I was used to it on occasion. The three of us piled out of the car withequally large cups of coffee in tow. I took a large slug of coffee, eyeing the place around us. St. Louis was colder. I frowned, watching the vapor from my breath billow out of my nose like smoke.

"Alright, so what are we doin' here at five-thirty in the morning?" Dean prompted his brother with an irritated huff. I rolled my eyes, _so not a morning person_. I scoffed to myself, _when was Dean Winchester _ever_ a morning person? Probably never._

Sam looked at us, the apparent ragged look of exhaustion taking place, though was more evident in his eyes. He hadn't slept long either, "I realized something," he began, "The videotape shows the killer goin' in, but not comin' out."

Dean rolled his eyes tiredly, "So, he came out the back door?" He ventured, snaking an arm around my waist, pulling me into him as he leaned against the hood of the car. I felt his chin rest on my shoulder.

"Right," Sam replied, "So there should be a trail to follow," he continued to speak as he crossed the road to the alleyway beside the house, "A trail the police would never pursue."

"'Cause they think the killer never left. And they caught your friend Zack inside." Dean stated to him, "I still don't know what we're doin' here at 5:30 in the morning." He grumbled, directing the statement towards me. I shrugged, feeling the weight of Dean's head on my left shoulder. He groaned at my movement, not bothering to move.

"I vote that we try to dosomethin' that doesn't involve creepy crawlies, supernatural bein's, or cold." I suggested with a sigh, taking note of the billowing stacks of steam coming from my mouth. Dean's lips quirked up at the mention of a vacation.

"I second that motion," he replied with a hint of enthusiasm in his voice. I chuckled at him, pulling away from our embrace to join Sam in his investigation. Dean stayed behind however, still leaned up against the car, fighting off his exhaustion and nursing his cup of coffee.

I took another slug, glancing around the ground and nearby brush, while Sam took to the dumpster. A large yawn racked through me that seemed to travel back to Dean as he yawned in return, causing me to laugh quietly. It was always funny how a yawn could be picked up so quickly.

Sam had wandered further down the alleyway, pausing at a nearby telephone pole fixated on something. Growing curious, I crossed the street to where he was at, catching the sight of the smeared substance on the pole, giving Sam an uneasy look. It looked a fresh.

"Blood," he murmured.

I glanced up from the pole, looking around, "Somebody must've come this way."

"Yeah, but the trail ends. I don't see anything over here." Dean called out, motioning his coffee around to nothing in particular. Not even a minute went by as an ambulance rushed pastus, sirens wailing. We all stood staring at each other in curiosity before scrambling to the Impala to catch up to the scene in progress.

It wasn't far. A couple of blocks that we could've easily ran or jogged to. Already, there was a large crowd forming of onlookers that surrounded several loads of police cars along with the same ambulance that had passed us earlier. Single filed with Dean in front, we watched an officer put a man into the back of the squad car, shutting the door.

A woman beside me stared on. I glanced her way, "What happened?" I asked, portraying a fellow onlooker.

She shook her head, "He tried to kill his wife. Tied her up and beat her."

The familiar worried look from earlier graced Sam's face, "Really?" he asked.

"I used to see him going to work in the morning," the woman replied, "He'd wave, say hello." A disappointed frown pulled at her lips, "He seemed like such a nice guy." She concluded with a confused shake of her head. Dean swallowed hard, exchanging a glance with Sam. We all stared on watching as the squad car pulled away from the scene with the man inside.

_Later_

We took the incentive of looking around the house where the man had allegedly tried to kill his wife, beginning on the outside and around the perimeter. Sam and I looked into a pair of garbage cans outside of the house, finding nothing before we moved to the front.

Dean came up behind us, walking rather quickly, "Hey." Sam and I turned around, "Remember when I said this wasn't our kind of problem?"

I exchanged a curious look with Sam, "Yeah."

"_Definitely_ our kind of problem," He replied.

Sam straightened up, "What'd you find out?"

"Well, I just talked to the patrolman who was first on the scene, heard this guy, Alex's story." We looked at Dean, nodding to urge him on, "Apparently the dude was driving home from a business trip when his wife was attacked." He finished.

"So, he was two places at once." I stated, crossing my arms.

He nodded with a smirk, "Exactly. Then he sees himself in the house, police think he's a nutjob."

"Two dark doubles attacking loved ones in exactly the same way," Sam mused.

"Could be the same thing doin' it, too." Dean suggested allowing Sam and I to think for a moment.

His eyes met Dean's, "Shapeshifter?" Dean shrugged, "Something that can make itself look like anyone?"

I snapped my fingers, "That's it!" I answered with a grin, "Every culture in the world has a shapeshifter lore. You know, legends of creatures who can transform themselves into animals or other men.

Sam nodded, "Right, skin walkers, werewolves."

"We've got two attacks within blocks of each other," Dean said, "I'm guessin' we've got a shapeshifterprowlin' the neighborhood."

Sam looked to me, "Abby, let me ask you this,"

"Lay it on me, Sammy." I said, smirking.

"In all this shapeshifter lore, can any of them fly?" He asked me.

I looked over to Dean, who shrugged at me, "Other than Mothman? Not that I know of," I replied honestly, receiving an eye roll from Sam at my sarcasm.

Sam moved over to the alleyway, "I picked up a trail here. Someone ran out the back of this building and headed off this way." He said pointing to the other side of the road.

"Just like your friend's house," Dean said.

"Yeah," Sam replied, "And, just like at Zack's house, the trail suddenly ends. I mean, whatever it is just disappeared." He shrugged, obviously being stumped from the loss of the trail. Dean's lips pressed into a thin line.

"Well, there's another way to go," I suggested causing them to look at me with curious eyes. "Down." We looked down to see a manhole where the trail left off with steam billowing out of it from the temperature change of morning.

_Sewers_

It was incredibly dim down in the sewer, given that it was underground with minimal lighting. Dean had gone down first and was already moving around, investigating while Sam came down after him, and finally, I climbed down, hopping down from the third step.

Upon inhaling, I gagged. I've smelled worse, but oh my word, this was rank. Dean's head turned in my direction with a concerned look flashing in his eyes. I waved him off, dismissing the sudden urge to vomit.

Sam glanced my way, concerned as well. It was unusual for me to react the way I did.

I held my hand over my nose, "I bet this runs right by your friend, Zack's house." I told Sam, trying to get my brothers back on task. Looking along the length of the sewer, Sam nodded.

"The shapeshifter could be using the sewer system to get around," He said.

Dean had noticed something, "I think you're right. Look at this." We looked down seeing a pile of blood and skin on the ground. My face skewed in a look of utter disgust, mirroring Sam and Dean's reactions.

"Oh…that is _nasty_." I grimaced, "This ain't from the victims, is it?" I asked, looking to Dean as he kneeled down, folding out his pocket knife to examine some of the skin that was in the pile.

"You know, I just had a sick thought. When the shapeshifter changes shape—maybe it sheds." He said.

Sam grimaced as well, "That is sick." Dean placed the bloody pile of skin back onto the ground with an audible squish. It was time to check the arsenal.

Up and out of the sewer-away from the bloody squish of skin-we were back at the Impala. Dean dug into his pocket for the keys, placing it into the keyhole to the trunk and opened it, sifting around.

"Well, one thing I learned from Dad," He said, taking out a box of ammunition handing it to me, "Is that no matter what kind of shapeshifter it is," He then rested his arms on the lid of the trunk, "There's one sure way to kill it."

Sam smirked, "Silver bullet to the heart."

Dean inclined his head, impressed at his brother, "That's right." I arched my brow at them with a smile, still holding the box of ammunition. Abruptly, Sam's cell phone began to ring. Dean and I looked at him, inclining him to answer it.

"This is Sam." He answered. Sam fell silent for a moment, "We're near Zack's, we're just checkin' some things out." Dean and I looked at him curiously. He mouthed, _Bec_, before his brows furrowed, "What are you talkin' about?"

I handed Dean the box of ammunition. He took it, giving me a look about Sam. Whatever Rebecca was telling him, it wasn't good.

Sam scoffed, "Why would you do that?"

As Rebecca went on the other line, Sam's face paled slightly, "Bec—," he tried to say, then stopped, being cut off. A quick sigh left his mouth, "We're tryin' to help." Again, Sam fell quiet. "Bec, I'm sorry, but—." Sam's stature sagged with disappointment. I frowned. That's all he was ever wanting to do is help her. Dean placed the box into the trunk, slamming the lid. He sighed, crossing over to where Sam stood.

"I hate to say it, but that's exactly what I'm talkin' about." Dean told him, placing a hand on his shoulder, "You lie to your friends because if they knew the real you, they'd be freaked. It's just—it'd be easier if—,"

Sam sighed, "If I was like you." He finished for Dean in a grim tone.

"Hey, man, like it or not, we are not like other people." He told him, "But I'll tell you one thing. This whole gig—it ain't without perks." Dean smirked, handing Sam a gun. Checking it, Sam placed the weapon in the back of his jeans. I checked mine, ensuring that a silver bullet was already loaded and in the chamber before I placed it in the back of my jeans as well. We headed back into the sewer, flashlights in tow.

Into the sewer once again, I reeled over the fact that it took me no more than a minute to end up slipping in that goopy pile of shed skin and blood, messing up my jeans and shoes just for the simple fact that they were my favorite pair.

_Always with the favorites!_

"I think we're close to its lair," Dean said.

"Why do you say that?" I asked, straightening up from swatting mud and blood and whatnot from my pants. From the disgusted look I received from both Sam and Dean, I was almost afraid to look.

"Because there's another puke-inducing pile next to your face." He stated. I slowly turned my head, seeing another pile of the goopy blood and skin within mere inches of my face.

"Oh, god!" I groaned out, feeling my body convulse into another round of gags. _What is wrong with me?! I was never this bad!_ Dean and Sam frowned while they moved around freely, finding a pile of clothes tossed carelessly in the corner.

"Looks like it's lived here for a while." Dean said.

"Who knows how many murders he's gotten away with?" Sam asked me. I turned to answer him from my gagging fit, seeing the shapeshifter. It was still in the form of the man from earlier. My stomach sank.

"Dean!" I shouted, alerting him. He turned, getting punched in the shoulder, and fell to the ground as the shapeshifter ran no time, Sam and I both drew our weapons, firing off several shots, unfortunately, missing the damned thing.

I rushed over to Dean's side, tucking my hair behind my ear, "Shit!"

"Get the son of a bitch!" Dean grunted out, struggling to his feet with his arm on his shoulder. I nodded, racing down the way we came with Sam, knowing that Dean wasn't going to be far behind.

Up on the surface, we were standing at the Impala, panting.

Sam glanced around, still searching for the shapeshifter, "Alright, let's split up."

Dean nodded, looking to me and Sam, "Alright." He agreed, "Abs, go with Sam and check the street. You'll cover more ground that way and keep an eye on him." I nodded, "Same with you, Sam. Look after her." Sam nodded, knowing that already. "I'll meet you two around the other side."

"Alright," I agreed. Turning with Sam, I was stopped by Dean grabbing my arm. I looked at him.

"Be careful, alright?" I looked at Dean in silence with Sam waiting for me a little ways ahead.

Sensing his uneasiness of us splitting up anyways, I smiled at him reassuringly, "Always. Just don't go gettin' sucker punched on me again, alright?" I teased, earning a smirk from him. Stealing a quick peck on the lips, I threw Dean a wink and turned, catching up to Sam and touched his arm signaling that I was ready before we took off at a jog down the street.

_Dean's Point of View_

Watching Abigail and Sam jog off down the street and out of sight, I blew out a curt breath. We had to find this son of a bitch tonight. It was all or nothing. Who knows how many more people will get hurt tonight…if not worse.

Clenching my jaw, I took off down the alleyway, gun drawn. The thought of this _thing_ possibly harming Sammy or Abigail sent chills down my spine. From the thought, I had to allowit become fuel for me to find it.

"Where are you, ya son of a bitch?" I growled out from under my breath. A passerby in the alley with me caught sight of my gun, turning away out of fright. She wasn't the shifter.

_Go figure_. I thought as I pushed further. This wasn't going to be easy. For all I know, this thing could've shed its coat once again, impersonating another innocent person.

It seemed with each passing second that I didn't find any signs of the shifter, the more anxious I grew. Not that it meant anything. Just putting that out there.

I came to the corner of the alley and paused upon hearing sounds of movement from the other side. Raising my gun, I squeezed my eyes shut, took a deep breath, and stepped around it, aiming for whatever may be standing.

Instead of the Asian man's imposter, I came face to face with Abigail.

She raised her hands with that smile of hers, "Whoa, whoa. Hey. Just me."

I let out a loud breath, "Jesus, Abs, what're you doing here?"

Abigail laughed lightly, "Didn't scare ya, did I?"

I lowered my gun, hanging my head a little, "Yeah, just a little." I couldn't help but look around, "Where's Sam?"

"Oh, he's at the Impala." She replied casually, pointing her thumb in the opposite direction, "Couldn't find anythin'."

Furrowing my brows in confusion, I looked at her, "Why didn't you stay with Sam, Abigail? That son of a bitch could ambush him at any moment."

Abigail's eyes steeled at my words, "I don't think that's much of a problem."

I frowned, "What?" I watched as her eyes quickly turned silver. That was when I realized, that wasn't Abigail, "Son of a—!" In one swift movement Abigail had done kicked up a pipe, caught it, and swung, knocking me out cold.

That was all she wrote.

_Abigail's Point of View_

Sam and I moved along the street with precision, careful to ensure that our weapons were not in view. Our eyes examined each person's face we passed on the street.

"You see anything?" Sam asked, glancing to a man in a suit.

I looked to a woman, and shook my head, "Not a damn thing, Sammy."

He frowned, "You think Dean found it?"

"I hope so." I replied, looking to a teenaged boy wearing headphones on the street corner. I was ready for this to be done. The gagging fit I had made me nauseous, and that was weird.

"You feeling alright?" he suddenly asked.

I halted, "Yeah, why?"

Sam shrugged, "You looked a little green down in the sewers, I wasn't sure if you hulking out on Dean and I, or getting sick."

Lashing out a playful right hook to his shoulder, I snorted, "Oh, yeah. _Totally _hulking out, Sammy. You know that." We both shared a laugh, "But really, I'm fine. It was just the smell." Sam nodded, falling silent. We continued our search on the street before finally rounding back to the Impala when we came up empty to wait for Dean to return.

"I'm just gonna be over here," I told Sam, wandering off when I saw him nodding. I ventured up the alley a little ways leaving him to himself. With my Maglite in my hand, I aimed it into each dark space, nook and cranny, leaving no rock unturned. Glancing back to Sam, I caught a glimpse of Dean approaching him before I looked back into the alleyway.

My cellphone started to buzz in my jacket pocket. Taking it out, I looked at the caller ID on the screen, seeing that it was Dean, I blew out a breath, "Hey you."

"_Hey, where are you? Sam and I are waiting for you."_

I rolled my eyes, "I'll be right there."

"_Alright, love you._"

Taking the phone away from my ear with furrowed brows, I looked at it, then placed it back to my ear, "…You, too."

Tucking it back into my pocket, I turned, readying my gun. There was one thing I knew for sure, Dean wasn't the one to express himself in words. Though on occasion he did, and even then, it wasn't often. Something's happened.

Making my way back to the Impala, I noticed Dean leaning on the rear quarter panel with a hand in his pocket, hiding the other, and Sam was nowhere in sight. I could've seen that it wasn't him a mile away, and his voice over the phone sure as Hell wasn't his.

The shifter caught sight of me, twisting 'Dean's' face into a smile, "Hey beautiful."

I eyed him, "Hey." I looked around, "Where's Sam? Thought you were ready to go?"

He chuckled at me, "Ah, you know how Sammy is. Tall man, tiny bladder."

I smirked at the shifter's foolish attempt at being Dean, "Sammy isn't going to pee in public, you know that."

The shifter laughed, "Yeah, you're right. Stupid me, huh?"

I nodded, pursing my lips at the humanoid, "Let's cut the crap, shall we? If you're gonna pretend you're Dean, at least do the research. You're not Dean." I stated, "I can see what you are a mile away." The shifter's eyes widened at me, "What have you done with my brothers?"

The shifter's eyes glanced to the other side of the Impala quickly, and lunged at me with a crowbar in his hand. I moved quickly, drawing my gun and narrowly missed the blow, feeling my Maglite getting ripped from my hands. Hearing metal collide with glass, I cringed seeing that he hit the Impala's rear passenger side window, shattering it.

_Dean is so gonna kill me._ I thought, when the shifter lunged at me again. The crowbar made contact with my left hand, instantly making me drop my weapon as I cradled my hand against my stomach, staggering backwards. I had a feeling that some bones were either fractured or broken in my hand. 'Dean' stalked towards me with a fierce, animalistic look in 'his' eyes. With ragged breaths, I took a step backwards, catching sight of Sam lying on the ground, knocked cold.

"What'd you do to him?" I snarled out.

His eyes slid to Sam's unconscious body, "He'll live, for now."

I clenched my jaw, lunging back at 'Dean' and collided my fist against the right side of his face. The shifter stumbled back, holding his face, crowbar still in his hand, he started to laugh.

"Cheap shot, bitch." He grated, swinging the crowbar at me again. And this time, I wasn't so lucky. I felt the side of metal collide with the right side of my face, practically dropping to the floor like a ton of bricks. Dots and flashes of light blocked out my vision with pain exploding throughout my face. The sounds of boots scraping against the ground got closer.

Blinking furiously, I saw the shifter kneel beside me, taking a fistful of my hair and jerked my head up, forcing me to look at him. His eyes scanned my face for a brief moment, dropping my head back onto the pavement. He stood up.

"Enough of the foreplay," was the last thing I heard from him seeing the toe of his boot collide with my face and I blacked out.

_Unknown Location_

When I came to, my head and hand was pulsing. A soft, pained groan passed my lips when I lifted my head to see where I was at. The room was dimly lit, though with the minimal amount of light casted from lit candles, I couldn't help but see that I was in a dingy, dusty room and I began to the looks of the room, I had a feeling that I was in an abandoned industrial building or warehouse. A chill ran through me, feeling nauseated from the pain in my head. I swallowed down a knot in my throat, grimacing tasting blood. I attempted to reach for my face and found resistance on my arms and blinked a few times, not seeing Sam or Dean in sight. A spike of panic drove through me as I looked around with widened eyes.

"Sam? Dean?! Where are you?" I called out hoarsely, "Sam!"

Groaning alerted me from the opposite side of the room, seeing that it was Sam tied up to a wooden post, his neck and arms restrained.

I struggled again, "Sam! Sam, you have to wake up!" His face scrunched at my words, "C'mon!"

When Sam finally looked up to see me, his eyes widened in shock, "Oh my god, Abigail. What happened?"

The shifter, still taking on Dean's image, walked in and stopped seeing Sam and I were both conscious. The shifter didn't say a word as the sound of skin making contact with skin resonated throughout the room. I gaped as the image of Dean backhanded Sam, who groaned after the hit and looked up at him with a dark scowl.

"What did you do with, Dean, ya sonofabitch?" I demanded.

"I wouldn't worry about him, though—," He gave me a quick onceover, "I'd worry about you."

Sam glared at Dean's image, "Where is he?"

"You don't really wanna know." He chuckled, carrying a bag and set it away from Sam and me. He knelt in front of it, rummaging through the contents, "I swear, the more I learn about you and your family—," He then added with an amused shake of his head, peering over his shoulder at me, then to Sam, "I thought I came from a bad background."

"What do you mean, _learn_?" I asked, frowning at the shifter's words.

Stiffening, 'Dean' suddenly grabbed his head in pain and grimaced. Sam and I shared a confused glance as the shifter slowly relaxed from what looked like a migraine.

_Good, I hope it hurts like a bitch_. I thought.

Getting to his feet, the shifter crossed over in front of Sam, "He's sure got issues with you," The shifter began with an amused smirk, "You got to go college. He had to stay home." He paused, then corrected himself, "I mean, _I_ had to stay home. With Dad." The shifter's body twisted in my direction, pointing a finger at me, "And _her_." He spat out, "You don't think I had dreams of my own? But Dad needed me." The shifter sneered, "Where the hell where you?" His voice turned eerily calm. Like a flip of a switch, the shifter turned his attention to me. A wicked smirk tugged at 'Dean's' lips, "Not sayin' that it all bad."

Sam tried to lunge after the shifter from his spot, unsure of what the shifter had in store for me. The look in his eyes was evident that he would've killed him if he were loose.

The humanoid straightened up to walk over to me, placing a hand above my head and the other on my chin. I jerked back with a hiss feeling a sharp jolt of pain in my chin before he jerked my face roughly and crashed his lips onto mine. I reeled back away from the unwanted contact, spitting what I was sure of was blood and saliva at him.

Those false hazel eyes of his glittered in malice, blood splattering across his face and coated his lips from the kiss. Another onslaught of pain lit up my face, realizing that the son of a bitching thing backhanded me as well.

Staring defiantly back at 'Dean', I found the courage to smirk, "My dead mother hits harder than you." The creature snarled his lip in a deep sneer, rearing his hand back for another go.

"Where is my brother?" Sam asked in an attempt to avert the shifter's attention. Allowing his hand to fall, the humanoid turned to face Sam, wiped the blood and spit off his face, and leaned in close.

"I _am_ your brother." He said, "See, deep down, I'm just jealous." A deep frown set in, "You got friends. You could have a life. Me? I know I'm a freak. And sooner or later," He looked to me darkly, "Everybody's gonna leave me."

"What are you talkin' about?" Sam asked watching the shifter back away from him.

"You left. Hell, I did everything Dad asked me to, and he ditched me, too. No explanation, nothin', just _poof_. Left me with your sorry asses." He continued, throwing me another icy look. "But, still, this life? It's not without its perks." A smirk tugged at his lips and he laughed, "I meet the nicest people. Like little Becky." His eyes stayed on me, "You know, Dean would bang her if he had the chance."

I glared at him, and if looks could kill, by _God_, that bastard would've been sent to the last pit of Hell, no questions asked!

Dean's image tilted his head and grinned, "Let's see what happens." He straightened up as if he were leaving, but instead, came back to me, "And when I get back," A low chuckle resonated from deep within his chest, "I am going to have _so much_ fun with you."

In no time, he was back infront of me, "See, everything Dean knows, _I_ know." His hands reached out, sliding them up my legs, between my thighs and up to my chest-giving my breasts a painful squeeze. I fought hard not to grimace in pain from it, "I know everything you like, sugar-pie."

"Fuck off, you freak." I hissed out.

He pursed his lips with a _tsk, tsk, tsk, "Me_? A_freak_?" The shifter chuckled again, "You're the freak, _Abigail_, is it?" His teeth flashed in a grin, "Dean's afraid of you because of what you are. He can't _stand_ being near you, or hearing you speak, you undignified _hick_. You are _nothing_ but a piece of ass and a burden on him."

He smirked, "And him not knowing your little secret?" His finger rose, shaking it in a teasing manner, "Such a downer." He patted my legs, "When I get back, I'll fix you right up."

I swallowed down my rising horror, "What the hell are you talking about _secret_? I have none."

Something flashed in his eyes, "I was you for a brief moment." He admitted, "You see, you've got a little bun in the oven."

My eyes widened as I shook my head in defiance, "No." I glanced to Sam, whose eyes widened at the news, and back to him, "That's not possible."

"Take it from someone who was you." The shifter replied, "I _know_.Don't go anywhere, sweet cheeks." A laugh escaped him while he left Sam and I to ourselves. His laughs echoed even after his departure, taking this as the opportunity to try and escape.

I looked to Sam, "We gotta get out of here and find Dean."

"You're _pregnant_?!" He stated.

"Not now, Sammy." I bit out from the pain in my hand, struggling against the ropes.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

I glared at him, "Yes, Sammy. I'm _fine_."

I felt the ropes slacken around my wrists after a few minutes of wrestling with them and smirked. After another jerk and twist, my right hand was free, "That dumb son of a bitch," I rejoiced, pulling my injured left wrist around my front, pulled the rope off, and rubbed them.

"_Damn it_," Sam cursed. I looked up seeing that he had gotten nowhere with his restraints as I brought my left leg up to my chest where I could reach into my shoe and pulled out a small pocket knife. Sam blinked at my ingenious hidden weapon as I grinned at him, cutting the rope that was around my neck, and got up.

"C'mon, Sammy," I said getting behind the wooden beam, beginning with his restraints on his wrists, then on his neck.

Getting to his feet, Sam instantly took my by the arms to take a better look at my face, his lips formed a grim tight line. He turned my face to the side, then back.

I shrugged, "Crowbar to the side of the head, and boot to the face." I answered the unspoken question. He frowned, eyes sliding down to my stomach. I pulled away from him feeling uneasy, "I'm _not_ pregnant, Sammy."

"Abigail—," Sam tried to speak. I held my hand up at him, cutting him off.

"_Don't._" I bit out, "You do not breathe a _word_ of this to Dean," I stated in a dangerously low tone, "I am _not_, and never _will _be, pregnant. Got it?" He furrowed his brows at me, wanting to speak, but knowing that I wasn't going to listen, Sam merely nodded. A short moment passed, Sam and me staring at each other in an uneasy silence. I gave him a quick onceover and nodded, "Good. Now we need to find Dean."

Sam nodded, changing the subject, "Yeah, before _he_ comes back to finish what he's started." I frowned at the thought, feeling Sam reach out and touch my arm in an unspoken promise that the shifter wasn't getting near me again. A cough from the back of the room we were in spooked me. I spun around quickly with my knife at the ready, half-expecting the humanoid to be standing there.

"That better be you, Sam, and not that freak of nature." Dean's voice called out, half-muffled by something. Sam and I let out a small laugh of relief.

"Yeah, it's us." He assured his brother, as we both began to search for him.

"Us? What do you mean, _us?_" Dean inquired with caution in his words.

Sam and I looked at each other with confusion residing in our eyes at Dean's question, "Uh, Abigail's with me." He replied a little bewildered at Dean's question.

We saw movement nearby showed us that it was Dean as he shook the cover off of him.

Dean's eyes fell upon me and narrowed with caution, "Are you sure that's really Abigail and not that thing?"

I raised a brow at him, "Uh, yeah. Pretty sure it's just me." I slowly approached him, kneeling by his side and began cutting the ropes loose with my good hand. I glanced at him seeing dried blood and nasty bruise on his forehead.

"You alright?" I asked him.

He grunted a reply, catching sight of the blood on my face when he glanced up at me. Dean turned his head, jaw slackening in shock at the sight of the bruise and cut, along with the dried blood that had encrusted itself on my face, "He do that to you?"

I hesitated and nodded, wipingwhat blood I could away from my chin with my sleeve. His eyes darkened with malice, "_Oh_, I'm gonna kill that son of a bitch the next time I see him!" He swore, his words holding a grim promise. I grabbed his hand not speaking and pulled him up from his place on the ground. Once standing, Dean placed his hands on each side of my face, inspecting for more injuries, seeing my hand swelled up and bruising already.

_Probably tallying up how many times he was going to get to kill him, _I thought ruefully, and winced when Dean brushed his fingers against my hand. Dean quickly retracted his hand, looking back up at me with an apologetic look.

"He went to Rebecca's lookin' like you," I told him softly.

A smirk graced his features, though the malicious look in his eyes never left, "Well, he's not stupid. He picked the handsome one." He replied in a teasing manner, earning a confused look from Sam.

"Yeah, that's the thing." Sam said, either ignoring Dean's teasing statement or didn't get the memo, "He didn't just look like you, he _was_ he was becoming you."

Dean looked at Sam, "What do you mean?"

Sam shook his head, "I don't know, it was like he was downloading your thoughts and memories."

"You mean, like the Vulcan mind meld?" He asked, growing curious as he placed a hand on my hip, pulling me closer to him.

I shrugged, "Yeah, somethin' like that."

"I mean, maybe that's why he doesn't just kill us." Sam inquired, catching the frown from Dean.

"Maybe he needs to keep us alive," He said, "Psychic connection. He's got a hell of an arm, I'll tell you that." I tilted my head. I didn't need to be reminded of that. Sam rushed to a boarded up window and began tugging, prying one off.

Sam looked at him, "Which one of us did he take on?"

Dean's brows rose, looking down at me and I furrowed mine at him.

"You got to be kidding me." Sam said, with a quirk of his lips, "You got knocked out by Abigail."

"Dude, what was I supposed to do?" He hissed out, pulling away from me to join Sam, "I wasn't going to shoot my girlfriend!"

Sam smirked at him, when the last board was pried off, "Whatever you say. Come on, we gotta go. He's probably at Rebecca's already." Sam and I helped Dean up through the window in order to prevent any further strain on his injured shoulder. With gritted teeth, he clambered through, making it out.

Sam grabbed me by the waist, hoisting me up into the window sill where I climbed through, being met by Dean catching me with his good arm, bringing me into his body. The only one left was Sam, as he finally climbed through. We looked around us seeing that we were out in a dark alley.

"Come on. We gotta find a phone, call the police." Sam urged us, getting ready to take a step.

Dean's brows furrowed at him, "Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. You're gonna put an APB out on me?"

He shrugged sheepishly at him, "Sorry."

Dean sighed, taking a look and motioned his head in a direction, "This way."

We were standing on the sidewalk staring into a shop with a television display showing a news report, "_An anonymous tip led police to a home in the Central West End, where a S.W.A.T team discovered a local woman bound and gagged. Her attacker, a white male, approximately twenty-four to thirty years of age, was discovered hiding in her home._" A sketch of Dean appeared on the screen.

Dean frowned, gesturing to the screen, "Man! That's not even a good picture."

"It's good enough." Sam spoke while he looked over his shoulder at passing civilians, spotting an alleyway before walking towards it. Dean looked at his sketch with a frown.

"Man!" he sighed out, taking me by the hand and followed Sam into the alley where he stepped into a puddle. He groaned, jumping out of it rather quickly when Sam gave him a cautious look.

"Come on," he said, then stopped in thought, "They said attempted murder. At least we know—,"

"I didn't kill her." Dean cut in.

Sam nodded, almost lost in thought, "We'll check with Rebecca in the morning, see if she's alright."

Dean halted, "All right, but first I wanna find that handsome devil and kick the holy crap out of him."

"We have no weapons. No silver bullets," Sam pointed out.

"The guy's walkin' around with my face, _okay_?" Dean replied, clearly frustrated in the situation he's in, "It's a little personal. I wanna find him."

I put my good hand on my forehead from the splitting headache and peered up at Sam and Dean, "Okay," I said, "Where do we look?"

He shrugged, "Well, we could start with the sewers."

I stared at him, "Dean, we have no weapons. He stole our guns, we need more."

Sam's brows pulled together, "The car?"

"I'm bettin' he drove over to Rebecca's." Dean replied, nodding.

"The news said he fled on foot," I murmured, "I bet it's still parked there."

Dean's features scrunched indicating that he was upset, "The thought of him drivin' my car."

Sam nodded, "All right, come on."

We began walking again, "It's killin' me." Dean threw out.

"Let it go." Sam replied.

_Rebecca's House_

As we rounded the corner, Dean caught sight of the Impala, a look of relief washed over him.

"Oh, there she is!" He said, raising his hand in the car's direction, "Finally, something went right tonight."

I smiled sheepishly, "Yeah…about that."

Sam and Dean looked at me quizzically.

"What?" Dean asked.

I scratched the back of my head, peering down at my muddy shoes, "The uh…passenger rear window's kinda busted out." Dean's face drained of color.

"What did you do?!" He exclaimed, horrified.

"I didn't do anythin', Dean Winchester!" I hissed out, raising my hands in defense, "You—I mean, the shapeshifter _you_ did it." He let out a pitiful groan.

"Are you freakin' serious right now?" Dean looked absolutely devastated.

I frowned, "Would you rather my brains be splattered over the car?"

Dean's brows furrowed at me, his eyes swirling with so many different emotions. I couldn't tell if he was mad, relieved that Sam and I weren't dead, or devastated over something happening to 'baby'. The man really loved that car, "You're not driving baby ever again." He stated. I rolled my eyes, he took off at a jog to inspect her and stopped as a squad car appeared, parking next to the Impala, "Oh, crap." We spun around seeing another car parked a few yards away. Dean froze, looking for a way to get out, "This way, this way." He instructed, moving to a fence.

Sam shoved me in that direction, "You go with Dean. I'll hold 'em off."

I resisted somewhat, "Wait, what are you talking about? They'll catch you." Dean was already climbing, pausing as he watched our exchange.

Sam shook his head, "Look, they can't hold me. Just go, keep out of sight. Meet me at Rebecca's." I nodded, taking to the fence, "Guys," I halted, looking to him, "Stay out of the sewers," He told us. I hopped over, exchanging a look with Dean, "I mean it!"

Dean grabbed my wrist by this time and started to drag me into the brush, waving him off, "Yeah, yeah!"

By the time we were out of sight, I heard a police officer shouting at Sam, "Don't move! Keep your hands where I can see 'em." I looked over my shoulder with a worried look.

"Hey, he's going to be alright." Dean said, pulling me into the shadows. He pushed me up against a brick wall, pressing his body against mine to shield us from sight. His heart pounded loudly against the side of my face, my arms wrapped around his waist. Dean peered down at me, eyes looking over my battered face once more with a clenched jaw, "Are you sure you're alright?" He asked.

I nodded, "Yeah."

A couple of hours had passed by slowly as we stayed in our place. He held me close to his side as we waited for the squad cars to vacate the premises. Dean then turned his head upon hearing cars pulling out from a distance, their strobe lights flashing out of sight, by now, the sky was beginning to show signs of daybreak.

Dean then placed his hand on my shoulder, signaling for me to stay put as he stepped back away from me, disappearing into the bushes. I waited for a short moment, seeing Dean poke his head back through, motioning his head.

"C'mon." He urged.

Approaching the car, Dean's brows pulled together at the sight of the busted out window. I felt guilty.

"Dean, I'll fix it." I said quietly. He looked at me, lips pulled together in a thin line.

He shook his head at me, "That's not the point, Abs. You and Sammy aren't dead." He tilted his head, "Yeah, my car's been abused by you once again." I rolled my eyes, earning a smile from him, "But you two are the most important things in my life. What the bastard has done to you," Dean shook his head, shutting his eyes, "That isn't acceptable. I won't let him get away with it." He pulled me into him again, pressing his lips to my temple.

I nodded in silence breathing in his scent, feeling up his chest for his necklace. I pulled back with furrowed brows, "Where's your amulet?"

Dean's eyes widened in a panicked state, "What?" He looked down, feeling for it as well, "Son of a bitch! He took it!" I frowned at the thought of the shifter taking Dean's amulet. He's wore it for as long as I could remember. Dean mumbled curses under his breath as pulled away from me, trying the driver side door. He unlocked and got in, popping the trunk. Getting back out, he rounded to the back, lifting the trunk lid and fished out the first aid kit. I looked at him confused.

He set it on the roof of the car, "Come here."

Doing as I said, I approached him. Dean opened the kit, taking out several alcohol prep pads and what looked like a wrist splint. He turned to me tearing open a pack of prep pads with his teeth. The strong smell of alcohol stung my nose.

"Turn your head." He instructed. I turned my head slightly, and cringed from the stinging sensation. Dean rolled his eyes, "Quit bein' such a wimp, Abs. You've been through worse."

"Easy for you to say," I muttered feeling the coolness of the pad move down my temple, cheek, and neck. I was grateful for Dean despite our bantering. He made an attempt at cleaning the blood off my face as well as bandaging my hand before he placed it in the splint. For someone to have such a bad-ass exterior, Dean also had a nurturing, caring side that I have only saw with Sam, me, and as of late, children and victims. Even then, he was still a little harsh on them.

After he was done, Dean shut the kit and placed it back into the trunk, opening the spare-tire cover to get to the arsenal. I took the opportunity to fish out my bag, getting a different shirt. I leaned over the side of the car, peering into the side mirror managing to see under my eyes were already black. I frowned at how I looked. Somehow, I always ended up with the short end of the stick.

Deep within my mind, I kept heard Dean's voice echoing, except it wasn't Dean's voice, it was the shifter. It just kept repeatinglike a broken record, _Left me with your sorry asses_…_You know, Dean would bang her if he had the chance…And when I get back, I am going to have _so much_ fun with you…See, everything Dean knows, I know_…_I know everything you like, sugar-pie._

I shivered, growing nauseous at the memory, hearing more_; Me_? _A freak?You're the freak, Abigail, is it? Dean's afraid of you because of what you are. He can't stand being near you, or hearing you speak, you undignified hick. You are nothing but a piece of ass and a burden on him…And him not knowing your little secret…You see, you've got a little bun in the oven._

A rise of anger spread through me like wildfire. There's no way Dean would act like that, or even say that…would he? I frowned, straightening up to pull my shirt off. I grabbed up one of Dean's old long-sleeved shirts that I had stolen years ago and tugged it over my head, shoving my arms through each of the sleeves, and bunched them up above my elbow.

I heard the sounds of ammunition clips click from behind me, and I turned seeing Dean load two pistols, "I'm sorry, Sam. But you know me—I just can't wait." He looked up at me, eyeing my new attire, "C'mon, we gotta shapeshifter to find." Dean closed the trunk as I walked up to his side, handing me a pistol. I tucked it in the back of my jeans, pulling my shirt over it as we walked towards the nearest manhole.

_Sewers_

Back into the sewer, Dean and I had come across the dimly lit abode of the shifter, searching for any signs that it was around. We stepped past and over several vomit-inducing piles of skin and blood on the floor, signaling that we were close.

Hearing a scuffling noise, Dean gestured me to follow him into another part of the sewer. We stopped seeing a large figure covered with a sheet and approached it with caution. Upon removal, Dean and I blinked several times, seeing a severely beaten and bloodied, Rebecca tied to a pole with her hand and feet bound together with rope.

"Rebecca?" I exclaimed, kneeling down to her to undo the knots. Rebecca's eyes fell upon Dean and flinched as if he were the shifter, "Hey, hey. It's gonna be alright, Becca." I said calmly.

"What happened?" Dean asked her.

Rebecca began sobbing, as I worked off the rope around her ankles, "I was walking home, and everything just went white. Someone hit me over the head, and I wound up here just in time to see that thing turn into me." She shook her head, "I don't know, how is that even possible?" She asked, looking absolutely petrified.

Dean looked at her calmly, "It's okay," he told her in reassurance, he approached the both of us, just as I untied her hands. Dean held out his hand to her, "Come on. Can you walk?" he asked.

Rebecca nodded, taking a hold of his hand.

"Okay, we've gotta hurry." I told them with a glimpse of worry in my eyes, "Sam went to see you." I said, already looking for the way out.

It didn't take us long to make it back to Rebecca's house. By the time we were inside, Sam and the shifter were fighting. However, the shifter was back in Dean's image. Dean and I stepped into the room, seeing the brawl. The shifter had Sam pinned, coming a hair delivering the final blow. Dean and I drew our guns.

"Hey!" He called out, catching the humanoid's attention.

He climbed off of Sam, growling. He lowered himself, readying to lunge at us. Without hesitation, Dean and I fired, planting two silver bullets into his chest, directly into his heart. It didn't take a rocket scientist to determine that by the time the shifter had hit the ground, he was dead. Rebecca came into the room shortly after, seeing Sam on the floor, bleeding.

Rebecca flew to him, "Sam!"

I stared at the shifter lying on the ground, dead and clenched my jaw at the sight. I couldn't help but shiver again. The way he had kissed me, put his hands on me…it was intensely nauseating. Dean slowly approached the corpse that had taken his image. Seeing his necklace, Dean yanked it from its neck, giving us a curt nod and put it back around his neck.

_That Morning_

Dean and I were observing a map of the United States that laid spread out across the hood of the Impala and just like I promised him earlier, I had gotten ahold of a window replacement agency to repair the window that had gotten busted out. He had a possessive arm wrapped around me as we talked over various options to go to. Maybe even lay low at my uncle Charlie's place for a couple of days until the excitement of the shifter impersonation of Dean bubbled down.

I glanced up, peering around the Impala's body seeing Sam and Rebecca conversing amongst each other quietly. She looked up at Dean and me, glancing back to Sam, who looked at us with a small smile, shrugging. I gave him a smirk after I caught them laughing before looking back down at the map and pointed to the Florida Keys with a grin.

"We should go there, and you know—" I quirked my head, "-lay low. I mean, long walks on a private beach, fishin', staying late at Margaritaville. The works."

Dean chuckled, "We will. Just you and me, babe. We can leave Sam with a babysitter."

I swatted his shoulder playfully, "Oh, come on. Sam deserves it too."

"You think there's nude beaches?" He asked with a hopeful glint in his eyes.

I laughed, "Only you, Dean Winchester, would only want to be on a nude beach." I caught the flash of his teeth in a grin, "You'd put every man on that beach to shame."

I felt him shift beside me, looking rather pleased at my comment, "You really think so?"

"Why yeah," I replied, throwing him a wink. He chuckled, then kissed me lightly on my temple. The both of us glanced up seeing Sam and Rebecca embrace before parting ways. As Sam descended the steps, we heard Rebecca speak, "Well, will you call sometime?"

Sam turned his head to look at her, "It might not be for a little while."

Content with Sam's reply, Rebecca nodded and looked up to Dean and me, waving. We raised our hands to her in a wave, seeing her walk into her house. I leaned into Dean as Sam approached us.

"So, what about your friend, Zack?" Dean asked as I folded up the map. He began rounding the Impala just as Sam came up to us.

"Cops are blamin' this _Dean Winchester_ guy for Emily's murder. They found the murder weapon in the guy's lair, Zack's clothes stained with her blood. Now they're thinking maybe the surveillance tape was tampered with." A smirk graced Sam's face, "Yeah, Becca says Zack will be released soon." I nodded, smiling for Sam's friend, though Dean rolled his eyes at how the turn of events came out, soiling his good name. Dean opened the driver side door and slid in.

Sam opened the passenger door, sliding in shotgun as I slid in behind him. We were all wore out, beaten, and bruised, and thankfully, still alive. As we pulled away from Rebecca's house, I couldn't help but give it one last look, remembering the shifter's words.

Quietly, I looked to Dean, feeling an uneasy knot form in the pit of my stomach. Was it doubt that what the shifter had said was true? After all, he had taken both of our forms. I looked down at myself, placing the corner of my thumb in my mouth and chewed on the skin around my nail. My eyes stayed mainly at my stomach…there was no way, could it?

"Sorry, man." Dean spoke up, pulling me and undoubtedly, Sam, from our thoughts.

Sam turned his head, "About what?"

A sigh passed Dean's lips, "I really wished things could be different, you know?" He said, "I wish you could just be…Joe College." I blinked, taken aback from Dean's sudden change of heart about Sam's college expedition, given that was probably the best thing Sam could ever get out of his brother.

Sam looked out the window, "No, that's okay," he replied, "You know, the truth is, even at Stanford," he scoffed lightly at himself, "Deep down, I never really fit in."

I caught a smirk form on Dean's face, "Well, that's 'cause you're a freak."

Sam looked over to him, "Yeah, thanks."

"Well, I'm a freak, too," Dean jested, nudging Sam in the side, "I'm right there with ya, all the way."

Sam laughed, "Yeah, I know you are."

"You know, I gotta say—," Dean said suddenly, "I'm sorry I'm gonna miss it."

I blinked, taking my thumb away from my teeth, "Miss what?"

He turned the rearview mirror a little ways to see me, "How many chances am I gonna have to see my own funeral?" A smile tugged at my lips, knowing that Sam was smiling and Dean was grinning. He had a weird sense of humor.

* * *

**What'd you guys think? I hope ya'll enjoyed this chapter of ****_Bad Company_****!**

**I was thinking...I listen to ****_a lot_**** of music while writing these chapters to create a mood within it. Tell me your favorite one that best describes these chapters (and future), and I'll listen to them! Whichever I feel is best suited, I'll update each chapter. with excerpts of the lyrics! Sorta like a reader's playlist! Good idea or no? Let me know what you think! **

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